


Tales of Earth-X: Vigilantes

by Writer207



Series: Tales of Earth-X [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Evil, Character Death, Earth-X (CW DC TV Universe), Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Racism, arrowverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-06-17 06:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 44,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15455511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer207/pseuds/Writer207
Summary: Earth-X, the Earth so horrible it has no number. Citizens, resembling the inhabitants of Earth-1 and Earth-38, live under the strict regime of the New Reich, inspiring patriots and rebels alike. Sometimes they resemble their other-Earthly counterparts, but more often than not they are very different and are living completely different lives.Vigilantes: there are different people in the Reich who stand up for what is right, against all odds. Heroes fight against the regime while the regular citizens protest the Reich in their own way.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> I do not, nor will I ever support nazism, but the nature of the story does require me to dive deep into the heads of those characters who are nazis. I do not agree with their ideals nor their beliefs; I am merely trying to write an entertaining story with a strong sense of good vs. evil.

Dearest readers,

 

Life on Earth-X can be hard, especially for someone like me, who has hopped dimensions. For safety reasons I cannot tell you my name, but if you must, refer to me as Elias. 

How did I get on Earth-X? Where did I originally come from? What is my age? I’m afraid none of this information is relevant. All I can tell you is that I arrived when the New Reich’s most fearful leaders were only children and that it pained me to see them being raised in these hostile environments, being taught to be just as twisted as those who came before. I watched them grow into adults, I watched them cross the border between worlds, and I experienced the aftermath of the Reich’s defeat on this side. Nobody returned and those who stayed behind, had to see their world fall apart. The rebels took charge and changed this world for the better. It is going to take some time to clean up the mess the New Reich has left behind, but the future is looking brighter than before.

If all is well, this document should have reached you on Earth-41. What you are about to read, is a culmination of my experiences as a citizen of Earth-X. I want to make clear that I am not clairvoyant and that information I shouldn’t otherwise know about has been taken by reviewing security cameras (with the CCPD’s permission), obtaining recordings of conversations or interviewing those few who wanted to share their story. 

There will be separate parts within this document, describing certain events that have happened to certain people. I will start with the “vigilante” part of the history, named after the variety of unsung heroes and others who bravely stood up against the reign of the New Reich one way or another. 

However, please do keep in mind that I am first and foremost a historian. If you are looking for overly flowery language and well-crafted fictional storylines, you should not start here. I have merely recorded certain events I believed to either be relevant or important for the development of one or multiple characters within the New Reich. 

Due to unforeseen events, I will never be able to get back home. But the least I can do is to share the stories and the history of the most feared Earth in the multiverse and hopefully nuance that, unlike what many believe, this Earth is not entirely made up of fanatics.

 

Fare well, and tread with care,  
Elias Jensen


	2. District Attorney

Justin Claybourne is everything but an honorable man, and as such, he fits right in with the elite of Star City. The CEO of Claybourne Pharmaceuticals only wanted what was best for his family. He had worked hard to reach the top, to lead one of the best companies in the city. Everyone uses the drugs he produces, no matter the costs, and this has kept him in Star City.

His big masterpiece was going to be a medicine for tuberculosis. They cost around ten dollars a pill, but that was going to change soon. Justin Claybourne had asked his operatives to weaponize tuberculosis, and they did. After releasing the virus, the price of these pills would increase a hundredfold. It was the quickest way of becoming a billionaire and becoming a part of the super elite.

But most of all, Justin had grown tired of working even the minimal hours. He looked forward to spending more time with his family, once the virus was released and he had enough money to last him and his next of kin until their deaths. Half of their time they would be in Star City, the other half they would spend in their second home on the island of Hawaii. Life wouldn't just be good anymore, it'd be great.

However, his secret activities had come to the attention of the New Reich. They did not see a corrupt businessman, but someone who specifically targeted the inhabitants of Star City, most of whom were hard-working white citizens of the Reich.

Dark Arrow, just a few months shy of becoming the new Führer, paid Claybourne a visit the night before the virus was set to be released.

Justin Claybourne, after a long night, wandered on the balcony on the roof of his office building. He leaned against the safety railing and looked down and took a deep breath, a smile on his lips. He remained there for a couple of minutes before turning to go back inside.

His way had been blocked by the Dark Arrow, having appeared in a mask and full costume. He had drawn his bow, an arrow placed on it. It pointed at Justin's throat. Standing just four yards apart, there was no way the Dark Arrow would miss. Dark Arrow never missed.

Claybourne glanced in the air and later sighed. The archer's girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. I can imagine it must have been comforting to know only one half of the New Reich's power-couple had bothered to show up. It wasn't an improvement per se, but seeing one of them was considerably less terrifying as facing the both of them.

"Justin Claybourne," the young man in the mask declared, "You have failed the Reich."

"But I'm obeying the law!" Claybourne protested. "I'm–"

Dark Arrow released the arrow. Claybourne staggered backward, the arrow lodged in his throat, and fell over the railing. Bystanders yelped when the body smashed into the concrete sidewalk down below. Some of them recognized his face, but they left the body where it lay. The man was dead, there was nothing they could do except to call someone to clean up the mess.

The next day, Mr. Merlyn acquired the tuberculosis virus. The following week, he released it in Africa.

You might wonder why this man is included in this part. I have included this particular story because it serves as the prologue to the story of Claybourne's illegitimate son. His name is Simon Morrison and he wasn't in Star City at the time of his father's death – he learned of it the next day through the news.

His last name was never Claybourne. Instead, he grew up with the last name of his mother's husband, who did lift a finger to help and raise him after learning he wasn't Simon's father. Simon always did have a better bond with Claybourne, who had wanted to name him the heir to his pharmaceutical empire. His son agreed.

Simon saw no fault in his father's plans. He had known beforehand the virus was meant to only target those areas where the rebels and vigilantes and not the entirety of Star City. Instead, he blamed the Dark Arrow and his misinformation source for his father's demise. As soon as Simon heard the news of his father's death, he disappeared. Simon Morrison was no more.

* * *

The courtroom was in a state of excitement, all eyes carefully watching Clyde Mardon. This meta-human from Central City had committed several crimes all over Star City until the police caught him. Since his crimes weren't against any authorities or persons affiliated with the New Reich, Mardon appealed to his right to have a trial.

Mardon got what he wanted. He pleaded not guilty and for months, his lawyer tried to convince the judge meta-humans should have the right to train their powers individually and anonymously, without the Reich's intervention. New Reich facilities were good, but some meta-humans – like Mardon – did not want to sacrifice their anonymity for a decent training. Often, these metas wanted to stay law-abiding citizens without being prejudiced against because of their powers.

The judge declared Mardon guilty and sentenced him to ten years in prison, without the possibility of an early release.

Cameras flashed and journalists rose to ask all sorts of questions. Mardon was taken away by the policemen for his drive to Iron Heights, but not before he could sneak one last comment to his lawyer, lost in the noise of the courtroom.

His lawyer, also known as District Attorney Adrian Chase, had a soft spot for defending metas who became criminals. He often found himself defending these hopeless cases, mostly because nobody else took them. As such he became a thorn in the New Reich's side.

Adrian's name was on the Reich's hit list, but they could not kill him. One reason was that the Reich did not want to risk riots in Star City and Central City protesting the death of their beloved meta-human lawyer. The second reason was his political immunity. As a District Attorney, he worked for the New Reich in a public office, which granted him his immunity for as long as he held that office. The New Reich couldn't hold him accountable for the cases he defended and they couldn't kill him for it.

Because they couldn't harm him, the New Reich turned to his friends and family. They killed his girlfriend, and a young girl named Evelyn whom he had inadvertently inspired to become a vigilante. Adrian always reacted publicly to these deaths, hoping to send the message that he knew how they died and hoping to remember them.

Adrian Chase did not have a happy life and even if he had, the Reich would have taken those good moments from him. The one positive was that the Reich and its citizens had no idea he was Justin Claybourne's illegitimate son. Claybourne's name was dragged through the mud when he died and they discredited him in every way that they could. The company went bankrupt, anyone with the same last name changed it or asserted they were not related to the deceased traitor. The Reich also kept a close look at any pharmaceutical companies, to make sure they wouldn't make the same mistake. Despite multiple efforts made, they never could find Justin Claybourne's immediate family.

They never found Adrian because he covered his tracks extremely well. As far as the state was concerned, one Simon Morrison had never even existed. Adrian Chase, on the other hand, had never been more alive. He had a birth certificate, a diploma and a Master's Degree in Law; his parents had gravestones in his hometown. Deleting Simon Morrison from the internet as harder, but doable. Until the New Reich acquired someone who is skilled in using a computer, Simon would not resurface soon.

Adrian Chase survived the fall of the New Reich. With the majority of the New Reichsmen gone or deceased, the more open-minded people of Star City declared him their new Mayor. Chase kindly accepted a candidacy for a mayoral election and encouraged citizens of Star City to run as well, so the process would be fairer. In response, three more candidates rose. It led to the first fully democratic elections in a long time. Adrian would eventually lose, but he confirmed he was more than happy being the District Attorney and he endorsed the newly elected Mayor.

* * *

Adrian Chase, throughout the multiverse, is no good man. Most of his doppelgängers have taken up arms against their enemies, and their vengeance has led them on a path of destruction. I pray the Simon Morrison/Adrian Chase on your Earth will stay anonymous throughout his life. This man is similar to the Chases of the multiverses in the sense that he chose to follow up on his vengeance.

However, as you may have noticed, there are key differences, too. Mr. Chase never took up any physical weapons, not even after his father's death. He never let the quest for revenge consume him. He never became a serial killer or a monster capable of killing a loved one who knew too much. That is one of the reasons he made the shortlist of vigilantes.

His attacks against the New Reich are unique, having chosen a way that none of the other vigilantes in this document have chosen. He never outright battles the New Reichsmen in a glorious fight to the death. No, Adrian Chase became a District Attorney and often acted as the lawyer of those individuals the Reich would either see dead or on their side. Trials made the time of his clients are free men longer and Adrian more often than not publicized them and allowed the press in, which meant the Reich couldn't do anything without cameras flashing. Yes, the media is on the Reich's side, but even the people would see the pattern of Mr. Chase's clients dropping dead during the trial, they'd draw conclusions which would not have favored the Reich.

But I digress. 

Instead of turning to weapons, Adrian Chase turned to his mind. Luckily for him, the Reich never had the chance to attack his mind.


	3. Sister

The next vigilante story begins in Midvale, South Carolina. For as long as this family lived in this nice town, they had been grateful and good. It was far away from the bigger _Reichstädte_ , such as National City and Star City, but its influence on the United States stayed strong. The Danvers family was loyal to the cause, as were most good citizens. The head of the family, Jeremiah Danvers, worked for the New Reich. He often worked for and together with Winslow Schott, and as such, he rose to fame and gained the privilege of spending three months per year with his family, should he want to. He took this offer and spends his summers in Midvale, traveling back to Star City for work.

His daughter, Alex Danvers, was a normal girl albeit a bit secluded because of her father’s fame. Despite being the odd one out, not being as girly as her female friends, she was a good person and was surrounded by kids wanting to be her friend because of her father. She did not mind it, and enjoyed the company, even though they seemed to keep an emotional distance.

Even as a child, she had made plans for the future. She knew exactly what she was going to do, and where. However, that all changed when the Kryptonian arrived.

The young girl was about Alex’s age and could have easily been a gift from God. Piercing blue eyes, blond hair and – even though Alex did not realize this – naïve and young enough to still be indoctrinated. Jeremiah had set out to kill the alien, as is the norm, but when he saw her, he took her back home to Midvale.

The alien human-like girl was welcomed with open arms. She introduced herself to the Danvers family as “Kara of the house El” and continuously asked about her cousin Kal-El. After learning she is the only one of her species that crashed on Earth, Alex interpreted Kara’s feelings as ‘having lost all purpose’. It was hard to read her emotions, but the way she had been speaking on Kal-El – as if he couldn’t take care of himself – made Alex believe Kara had been sent with him as his protector.

Jeremiah took the crying girl into his arms and Kara held him tightly, though it felt strange. Alex would never forget what Jeremiah told her next.

“Weep, but do not forget. Family is important. You can stay with us if you’d like. We’ll be your family and you will be our own.”

The distraught girl accepted his offer, and from that day forward, she was no longer Kara Zor-El. She was Kara Danvers.

Alex was overjoyed to have a sister. Kara was happy to have someone of her age to talk to. They exchanged stories, but it always ended with Kara telling Alex of Krypton. Alex eased Kara into her new life and informed her of Earth’s customs, introducing the idea of the New Reich early on and Kara not thinking twice about it.

With Kara, Alex’ popularity skyrocketed and was only rivaled by Kara’s. Everyone wanted to talk to the perfect new girl and to Alex’ annoyance, Kara allowed them to do just that. By the end of the first week, everyone in school had talked to Kara and Kara considered everyone as friendly acquaintances.

One day was even more perfect than those first five days. The sisters and some classmates went to the beach. Alex couldn’t help but smile when Kara stared in awe as the ocean waves crashed into the sand. But a car accident happened, and Kara immediately responded. While saving the old man, she unleashed her super strength, flight and heat vision, and she revealed herself to the world.

Videos of her heroic acts went viral. By the time evening fell, there wasn’t a person in the United States who hadn’t heard of the meta who had three different abilities.

The next day, a New Reich official visited the house. Jeremiah introduced his daughters to the guest. Alex already knew this man, but Kara did not. He did not intimidate Alex anymore, but Kara hid from the guest behind her adopted father. Alex stood by and watched the scene unfold.

“Kara,” Jeremiah said, “I want you to meet Mr. Merlyn.” He nudged her forward – Kara was still shy and uncomfortable around new people. Eventually, Kara extended her hand, which Malcolm shook.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said politely.

Malcolm laughed. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Danvers.” He let go of the hand but kept his eyes on her. “Do you know why I’m here?”

Kara shook her head.

“That’s okay,” Merlyn said, squatting down to eye-height of the girl. “I’ll explain.”

The Danvers sisters listened attentively to every word he said. Malcolm explained how Kara was special, how she shouldn’t hide her astonishing powers, because one day she could become one of the most powerful people of the New Reich, if not the most powerful. With powers like yours, he’d said, “you will be a god living amongst men”. He then formally invited her to study in Star City, where she would attend classes from the best professors the New Reich can provide and she’d received the best training imaginable. As soon as she’d come of age, Kara would be well-educated and she’ll have mastered most, if not all of her abilities. Most importantly, she’d be schooled with other kids who have abilities. She'd be introduced to people who were almost like her.

“What about Alex?” Kara asked.

“She can come, too,” Malcolm promised, “I have a daughter who doesn’t have powers who receives the same training. The both of you will become the warriors this country desperately needs.”

That was all Kara and Alex needed to hear. The next week, they left behind Midvale and the family moved to Star City.

The sisters enjoyed their education and both girls grew up to be self-confident women who ought to be respected by everyone who saw them. Though the sisters grew apart, their bond remained strong. During school hours, they stuck with their respective departments: meta and non-meta. Alex befriended the few children who trained with her and found herself gravitating towards Sara Lance. Alex could never quite put her finger on the reason why she liked Sara so much, but she never thought too long about it. Before she could, the next class would start, and she and her classmates were expected to do their very best.

The sisters graduated with flying colors, and their classes became the first members of the newly instates New Reichsmen. Their department would be dealing with meta-human threats and criminal activity. In the future, ‘destroying the resistance’ was added to that list.

Kara Danvers, now a confident woman who is to be feared and loved, was chosen to become the head of the New Reichsmen, while Alex would focus on alien activity around the globe, joining the D.E.O. shortly before their merger with A.R.G.U.S. Alex would be taking care of alien threats to the Reich.

Working for different departments, the Danvers sisters did not see each other as much as they were used to. Although they missed each other dearly, they knew their duty towards the Reich was more important than seeing each other. Some might say that, if the sisters had just spoken every once in a while, none of the following would have happened. In my humble opinion, it would have happened regardless of their interactions.

* * *

  
Nobody can truly say when the downfall of Alex Danvers started, but “nobody” did not have her personality in mind. I have a strong suspicion it started with the death of Sara Lance. It was shocking and disturbing, and of course, everyone knew what happened. Killed by her own father, after kissing a woman – one of her personal bodyguards, no less. Because it was the Black Canary, every news outlet jumped on the story and dragged it until Oliver Queen asked the media to step down and focus on something else.

When Alex first learned of Sara’s death, she broke down in tears. She stayed at home, made herself a ton of coffee and drank it all, eating ice cream in front of the television to drown her sorrow. The next morning she would go back to work, but she had given herself one day to mourn. Even after hearing that Sara had started the kiss with that woman, Alex mourned. She couldn’t help it, but she did feel bad. She shouldn’t be upset a lesbian had died – she shouldn’t shed tears for someone like that. But deep down, she did. She had cared deeply about Sara, more so than she ever thought. They had kept in touch even after school. Alex had been present at Sara’s engagement party, Sara had shown up at Alex’ work one day. They still had managed to see each other frequently, more frequently than Alex and Kara did.

That day, Alex discovered a horrible truth about herself: she had liked Sara more than a friend. She had fallen in love with her. As a New Reich operative, that was a problem.

She kept this secret under wraps. She convinced herself it was just a phrase, that she was only feeling emotional over the death of a friend, that it was nothing serious. When asked, she condemned Sara in public, but in private she still mourned and missed her. Alex did what she had to do and worked harder than ever, even if aliens were not always friendly and calm and willing to cooperate.

Some aliens had come into contact with the NCPD. Somehow, aliens were drawn to a life in National City, and that was where Alex would stay half of the time. She aided the police department with A.R.G.U.S. and D.E.O. information, while they handed her mugshots, confessions and other information she might need.

In National City, she met Maggie, the second woman who stole her heart. Again Alex managed to convince herself Maggie was a good friend and she never dared to admit she loved the woman. Maggie, on the other hand, didn’t mind discussing her sexuality with Alex after knowing each other for two months. Once she’d come out to her, Alex did not tell anyone. She had wanted to report Maggie but never did. She did not want to sell out a friend like that, even if it was the right thing to do.

But the news got out. Maggie had drunkenly brought it up with a colleague, who immediately arrested her. That was the official story – Alex did not believe it for a second, because Maggie wouldn’t be so careless as to reveal her big secret after drinking alcohol.

Alex was at the D.E.O. in Star City when the news got out. Someone confronted her about her contact with Maggie, and Alex was forced to denounce Maggie immediately and for everyone to hear. The day went well, but as she got home, Alex mourned and she started to have dangerous thoughts. She thought Maggie didn’t deserve it. She’d been a law-abiding citizen and loyal to the New Reich. Why punish a woman who did everything right and tried to keep her nation safe? Alex thought loving someone of the same gender shouldn’t be considered a crime if they were serving the Reich well.

Alex came to work with a different mindset the next day. She had lost two women she cared deeply about and she had learned that it did not matter who you loved – heterosexuality is the default, and people fear something that deviates from that default. Also, Alex was convinced that she, too, was a lesbian, and she embraced her true nature. Unlike Maggie, she never spoke about it. She had gotten into the habit of writing her thoughts and feelings on a piece of paper, burning it immediately afterward. Nobody ever read what she wrote down, and her secret was safe.

Over the years, she had risen to the position of Director of the DEO. The jobs had its benefits, such as an encrypted email address nobody could hack. Alex also figured out that her emails were untraceable and could only be read by the person she sent an email to.

While she was Director, she received information about the resistance. Earlier, she had figured out one guy on her floor was working for the resistance, but she had kept this secret. By now, Oliver Queen had become the Führer and the New Reich was going in a more conservative direction, going as far as wanting to segregate the blacks again. He wanted to use them to snuff out the resistance. Alex hated the idea but did not speak up.

One day, Alex decided she had had enough and sent the employee an email with detailed information about how they could stay hidden from A.R.G.U.S. on the internet. The guy did not mail her back, but after that day, the resistance was suspiciously quiet on the internet and they were less likely to be discovered. Alex had done well.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who could read her emails. In order to assess whether there were any threats from inside the New Reich departments, Kara Danvers had access to all worker files and emails, including her sister’s. Kara read the email.

* * *

It was raining that evening, and Alex sat on the couch of her apartment, watching reruns of her favorite TV show to keep her mind off of work for a moment. There stood a cup of hot cocoa on the table in front of her and she was dressed to go to bed shortly after the episode would end.

Alex glanced to the right and almost jumped up. Kara Danvers had come to visit her, having taken the liberty to enter unannounced through the balcony. She wore her dark New Reichsmen uniform but had decided against putting on the mask for this visit. She stared at Alex with feigned indifference. (Mind you, this sudden apparition could scare even the bravest of souls. Oliver Queen himself once admitted that he was sometimes scared to death of Overgirl, adding it meant she was great at her job.)

Alex immediately took note of the wardrobe choice and the harsh look on Kara’s face, one she’d never used on Alex before.

“It’s good to see you.” Alex stood up from the couch, holding her hands together. A hint of a smile appeared on her face. “It’s been too long.”

“Is it true?” Kara asked. Alex took a deep breath and averted her eyes, but did not answer. Kara took a step in her direction.

“Alex, is it true?” Eventually, Alex nodded.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Kara’s face softened only slightly, looking at Alex with pity. She had given herself the assignment to take Alex in. Yet, now her sister stood before her… she rather wanted to give Alex a second chance than to bring her in without giving her a chance to defend herself.

“I can help you,” Kara said, grabbing Alex’s shoulders. “Come with me. Tell them they forced your hand. Tell them they threatened your life. Tell them what they want to hear, and I promise, they won’t harm you.”

‘They’ referred to the New Reichsmen, who were more than happy to make sure another traitor would die. lying to them was the only way out of this mess, and they would have to believe it because Kara wouldn’t let them investigate.

In other words, Alex would have been wise to accept. Though I can imagine that if she accepted the offer, she would have been watched more closely than ever. She would have to sacrifice her privacy to the New Reich and be their puppet until the end of her days. That was what usually happened to traitors who cooperated and who successfully sold the New Reichsmen investigative committee their lies.

Alex shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t.” Sara Lance and Maggie Sawyer came to mind. “I’m sorry, Kara, I can’t.”

Kara nodded once, understanding that Alex could not be persuaded to take the offer. She thrust her hand in Alex’s chest and pulled out her heart. It rested in her hand for a while and only after Alex had passed away and her body dropped to the floor, Kara tossed aside the heart as if it wasn’t a big deal and left.

Later, a team would come to clean up the mess. The news would report it as an act of the rebels, as to increase the hatred for the resistance and lower the chances of anyone showing them sympathy. Someone loyal to the New Reich, a man named Hank Henshaw, took her position as the Director of the D.E.O. The contact person she had sent the message to has been taken to a concentration camp, where they lasted two weeks before dying.

Nobody spoke of Alex again.

* * *

I wished to include this particular event since this is a perfect reflection of the world these people live in. Even those who have grown up to become the next generation of the New Reich elite can fall, even if that is difficult. Those who are part of the elite and who do not have any intention of changing their ways are ruthless killers. They show no mercy towards the rebels and other people who break the rules and who show even the slightest amount of sympathy for the resistance.

Alex Danvers may have only sent one email, but it changed everything. She was the reason that so many rebels could surf the web and counter the New Reich’s propaganda without being outed. She saved many people and gave them their digital privacy back. She knew what she was doing, acting with a clear mind. Her recently changed moral compass made it impossible for her to accept Kara’s offer.

Often, my mind wanders and the image of Ms. Danvers standing up to her older sister. It reminds me that some people have the courage to stare the authorities in the eye and say ‘no’, unlike me. It reminds me that those who were raised to become the authority can learn to disagree with everything their mentors taught them. And that is important to remember.


	4. Elongated

Earth-X is one of many Earths inhabited by meta-humans - or 'metas' for short. Though, I will have to make a distinction. These metas are mixed-group. This means they weren't only created, such as on Earth-1, and neither were they only born with powerful abilities like on Earth-29. Unlike anywhere else in the multiverse, this Earth has a healthy amount of metas from each category. I will be referring to the collective group, not the separate sub-categories, but it is good to know there is a difference between these so-called natural metas and created metas.

The latter group received their powers when the Central City particle accelerator exploded. Because of this, Central City has been dubbed the "meta-human capital". These individuals, unlike the natural metas, are not stable and have little to no control over their abilities. They are more likely to be caught by the police and coveted by the New Reich.

The authorities built a training facility in the middle of Central City, where once S.T.A.R. Labs stood. About half of the new metas would join this new academy; those who did not, went into hiding, living as an outlaw. Few of those have chosen to ally themselves with the resistance, as most are too busy trying to stay alive to help anyone else.

But this isn't about one of those outlaws. This is about a New Reich enthusiast with the power to shape the future who changed his mind. 

* * *

Ralph Dibny's life was anything but extraordinary. He never did truly shine or stand op out. Struggling into adulthood and getting a job as a CSI at the Central City police department, he never thought he was special and neither did anyone around him. He was just plain old Ralph: a normal guy with a normal life and normal friends.

Normal was fine by him. He did not need to stand out or draw much attention to himself, as others his age would. Ralph was happy to live an ordinary life in an otherwise extraordinary world.

Then, the particle accelerator exploded, changing the lives of many. Ralph was at home when this happened. He had been watching TV when the loud thunder startled him. Outside the window, a yellow-orangey lightning shockwave came towards him.

It was a sight to behold. It was the most beautiful and terrifying phenomenon he had ever witnessed. When the shockwave hit the apartment building, the blast threw him to the other side of the room. It did not knock him out, but he didn't do anything substantial that evening. Only when he sneezed the next morning did he know something was horribly wrong with him, as Ralph himself so eloquently put it.

He was not the only one who was affected by the particle accelerator explosion. The Reich visited everyone in the blast radius and found him, saving him from his sorry state. They had to carry him out of the apartment and into an ambulance, which then drove to the nearest crisis center.

Ralph was so grateful they "fixed him", he did not care how he repaid them. So when they opened the newest training facility a month after the explosion, Ralph was one of the first to sign up. The Reich publicized this event and even had Ralph and others record reaction videos, which they used to recruit more newly created metas to the Academy.

During the five months be stayed there, he made a lot of new friends. There were few whose abilities freaked him out, like Mystique, and others were freaked out by what he could do. These months have also been informative, as he learned a lot about his abilities. He was resistant to everything, but acid and electric shocks; he could stretch his body in various ways and in different shapes; bullets ricocheted off of him and punches did not hurt him; his vocal chords can be manipulated to sound like someone else; and with the help of his powers, he can transform into a different person. Dr. Snow had given him a scientific and biological explanation for his abilities, but he did not really listen. He was content knowing how to use and control his powers, he had not signed up for a biology class.

As a way of experimenting, he thought it was a good idea to change himself into one of the trainers and go about the facility freely. After so much progress, he deserved a free walk around the Academy. Izzy Bowin, a good friend of his who could control sound and use it as a weapon, disagreed with his plan but never mentioned it to anyone. After all, Ralph just wanted to take a walk in the restricted areas of the Academy out of sheer curiosity – it was not his fault he happened to listen to a confidential conversation.

While a disguised Ralph walked around the facility, he came across Dr. Snow. She stood outside her office and talked to a very special guest. Upon seeing him, Ralph panicked and hid behind a corner, enabling him to hear the conversation between Dr. Snow and her guest, Blitzkrieg.

Blitzkrieg usually stayed on other continents, traveling far and wide for the New Reich and keeping in touch with Deutschland at the same time. These new recruits, all coming from his native city, have piqued his interest, and this impromptu visit was sparked by hearing of one extraordinary recruit among the many average ones.

Blitzkrieg read through the reports that Dr. Snow had given him. he stood in a relaxed pose, taking his sweet time to go through them, while Dr. Snow had her arms folded and constantly shifted her weight from one leg to another, nervously biting her lip and glancing from his face to the documents and back again.

Blitzkrieg paused at one particular document. "Are these all the test results?" he did not look up from the documents.

"Yes," Dr. Snow said as confidently as possible. Blitzkrieg wasn't bothered by her nervous attitude – he had that effect on people. "I tested everything twice. There's no doubt about it, he is invincible."

Blitzkrieg paused and looked up from the papers. He put them back into a neat pile while he watched Dr. Snow. If she had any confidence before, it all melted away when their eyes met.

"Electric shocks and acid," Blitzkrieg said in a flat tone. He shoved the documents into her hands. " _Nearly_  invincible."

Dr. Snow opened her mouth and she stammered out some incomprehensible sounds that almost formed words before she stopped. Blitzkrieg raised an eyebrow.

"Acid can burn through any materials," Dr. Snow eventually said at a much slower pace, "but a suit built with the right materials block most electric impulses."

Blitzkrieg nodded approvingly – this gave Dr. Snow some of her confidence back.

"How about the morality tests?"

"He is still grateful," she said, still sounding hesitant, "and gratitude is a powerful tool. He is a loyal person, but his loyalties lie with his friends and family and not with the Reich."

"Not  _yet_ , you mean," Blitzkrieg corrected her. He spoke in a tolerant way but still added a subtly threatening tone. "What do you suspect Dibny will do if we confront him directly?"

"I'm… not sure," Dr. Snow responded after a couple of moments of thought. "Perhaps an indirect course of action will persuade him more easily."

Silence fell for a few seconds, while Blitzkrieg formulated a plan in his head.

"Does he have any close friends or relatives he mentioned?"

"He seems close to Izzy Bowin," Dr. Snow said. she did not need to mention what powers she possessed – Blitzkrieg had been interested in the new metas since they were created, especially because of the location where all of them popped up.

"How much progress has she made?"

"We, er…" Dr. Snow weighed her words carefully before answering. "We expected more of her. the last two months, she hasn't gotten any better, but given the right motivation, I am convinced that she can still—"

"Don't worry, Ms. Snow," Blitzkrieg said. "I will take care of Dibny, and you can take care of the others." He nodded once at her before speeding away. a gust of wind and yellow lightning trailed behind him. at the same time, Ralph returned to the dorms as quickly as he could. Not actually knowing his way around, it took him much longer than he wished it would take. In his haste, he dropped the disguise. He turned to the women's dorms and knocked on Izzy's door.

Blitzkrieg had been faster. Ralph would later learn Izzy had accepted the offer to work for Blitzkrieg and the New Reichsmen, sort of like an internship. It required her to pack her bags and leave for Star City immediately. Ralph missed her by only seconds.

From that moment on, he spent all his free time worrying about her and about his own safety. He was well aware what the New Reich was capable of, but since joining the Academy he had thought himself safe. He wasn't too sure about that anymore. Luckily, nobody suspected he knew about the conversation Dr. Snow and Blitzkrieg had held. He was just a recruit who worried about his best friend. He did receive a letter every two days – it was the only way the interns were allowed to communicate with the outside world – but he could never contact her or send a letter back.

Two weeks into her internship, she stopped sending letters. Four days later, the national TV channel broke the news.

_"Izzy Bowin, a meta trainee of the Central City Academy and newly appointed intern for the New Reichsmen, has been found. Passers-by saw her body floating in the river. The police have closed off the crime scene. The investigation has just opened, but as of this moment, all evidence points to the rebels as potential murderers. Neither the New Reichsmen nor the Academy are available for comments. If you see anything—"_

Ralph could not look away from the TV as rage and fury took him over – all of it pure anger aimed at the New Reichsmen and everything they stand for. Fortunately, he was alone in his room and no Academy official was nearby. It enabled him to return to a somewhat more reasonable state, but that did not take away the rage. He did not stand a chance if he tried to fight the guards without regards for strategy, and it alerted the New Reich of the revenge he wanted. Until he found a way to get back at the New Reich for taking Izzy away for their personal gain – to make a vengeful New Reichsman out of Ralph – he would lay low.

The next couple of weeks, he went through an admirable transformation. Instead of enthusiastic, he was reserved. He pulled his punches and did not give it all. He grew wiser, in a sense. He figured out that he did not want to be a fighter and had liked his ordinary life. He wanted out, but everyone constantly had their eyes on him because of the sudden shift in behavior. Dr. Snow explained it away as him having a different reaction than the one they had planned, but it didn't take away the capacity of him becoming a fierce warrior for their cause.

As such, Ralph continued to disguise himself as different people to get to the Academy's research labs and offices so he could walk away from the Academy, disguised or not, without anyone noticing. In one of such endeavors, he came across highly confidential documents that only those who possessed the highest clearance level were allowed to read. So, naturally, Ralph read the documents.

They detailed the "discovery of the century", based on a scientific breakthrough. Dr. Martin Stein, assisted by Dr. Caitlin Snow, had studied the body of a Dominator, a member of an alien race that came to Earth and that had been eliminated by the D.E.O. and the New Reichsmen before they became a threat. The duo performed an autopsy on the body and discovered these aliens could take control over another being's mind. The process was chemical, but Dr. Stein was able to create a device that worked similarly, but that used electric impulses to keep the target's mind under control. There were two parts: the emitter and the receiver. The documents talked more about how the technology erased the target's wishes and desires to make them compliant. Ralph stopped there, not wishing to know how exactly it worked. He hurried back to his dorm.

When he crossed the main hall, he paused. The guard at the door was near the end of his shift and was probably tired enough to let Ralph pass. At this hour, all sorts of Academy officials were going home or just arriving. Not saying a word, he transformed into a different person and walked through the main doors.

The Academy life continued as it did before, but without Ralph Dibny. His fellow trainees were confused, the trainers were terrified of the consequences of his disappearance and the officials, such as Dr. Snow, had to report to Overgirl herself and explain why one of their most powerful recruits managed to disappear.

Ralph managed to spend about five days outside of the Academy. Ralph had chosen to wear the face of one of the people in one of Izzy's old magazines, an older man from the United Kingdom. Nobody had seen through his disguise, but he was having trouble living incognito and at the same standard as he did before. He had slept on the streets of Central City for three nights, and then one night in an abandoned run-down ancient house. it was better than living on the street, where Blitzkrieg could find him in an instant. Ralph had seen him run through the streets, looking for the missing meta. "Kidnapped by the rebels," several news outlets said, providing a not-so-helpful picture of him for the viewers.

But Blitzkrieg found him. in the middle of the fifth night, he busted down the door of the old house, startling Ralph awake. He urged his body to transform into the older Englishman, but Blitzkrieg was faster. He dashed across the room and hit Ralph with a blast of lightning. Ralph fell to the ground, screaming as electricity rushed through his body.

He barely had any power left in his body. He tilted his head and Blitzkrieg towered over him, cold eyes glaring down.

"If you're going to disguise yourself," the independent operative said in an indifferent tone, "don't pick a well-known Oxford professor."

The speedster shot lightning at him again. Ralph only vaguely remembered being picked up from the ground before losing consciousness. 

* * *

Waking up, Ralph sat with his back against a cold, metallic wall. He was still in intense pain, so much so that he at first had no idea he was sitting upright. His back hurt and he had a massive headache. His muscles throbbed and burned, as well as his right side. Especially the right side – that was what Blitzkrieg aimed for. The dim light above him was too bright and he squinted his eyes on the occasion that he opened them.

His mind drifted away several times, as he let himself rest in this position. After a while, the pain faded and his body became numb and stiff. The light did not hurt anymore and he could actually take notice of his surroundings.

Ralph was pretty certain they had placed him in a prison cell that couldn't have been bigger than his bedroom at the Academy. The walls emitted some sort of purple light, making the place look more ominous than it needed to be. On his left stood a metal bed with mattress against the wall and on his right, instead of iron bars stood a large window with two-inch wide holes systematically punctured in them.

Most peculiar was the man on the other side of the window. He was dressed smartly and immaculate in his three-piece suit, his brown hair combed back. The man watched Ralph with a certain amount of interest as if he were a visitor in a zoo. Though most unsettling were his eyes. Ralph had expected at least a glint of evil in them – the man was probably working for the New Reich – but that couldn't be farther from the truth. His face had a pleasant disposition, and Ralph got the feeling that people liked him instantaneously. Given the situation, Ralph did not dare to trust him or speak up.

"You're strong, Ralph," the man said. "You are powerful. I have never met a meta as versatile as you are. The Reich needs you."

Ralph's eyes widened, his heart sped up. He recognized that voice.

"Blitzkrieg." That couldn't possibly be him! If Ralph ever imagined what Blitzkrieg's face looked like, it wouldn't be that face. The man nodded cautiously.

"True." He used the same neutral tone as before, placing his hands in his pocket. "You didn't have to run. The people at the Academy are there for you. I know the responsibilities of a hero are hard, but the rewards far outweigh the risks."

Blitzkrieg paused and smiled. Ralph found this to very unsettling.

"Do you understand what you're capable of?" the man continued, "You have the potential to be the most powerful man on the planet, behind the Führer and his wife. We will help you reach that potential. Before you know it, you'll be out there, punishing the rebels who killed your friend."

_Izzy._

"No," Ralph blurted out, his mind foggy for a few moments. He glared at Blitzkrieg. "You killed her," he spat, "not the rebels. You did that."

Blitzkrieg's face hardened. Finally, Ralph saw the eyes of the man that ran around the world ending conflicts in bloody ways. The man on the other side of the glass turned from a normal citizen into a New Reich operative, to be feared and respected, whether he deserved it or not.

"You'll help us," the speedster said. "You will. If you don't wish to help us voluntarily, they will make you cooperate. You can do this the easy way, or the hard way. That's your choice."

Ralph leaned towards Blitzkrieg, the pain in his side resurfacing, not taking his eyes off of the New Reich operative.

"Screw you," Ralph said through gritted teeth.

Blitzkrieg only shrugged. "The hard way, then." The man strode away from the cell, and Ralph breathed out deeply and loudly. They were going to use that device on him, they were going to make him their slave. He had to get out of the cell.

He took a closer look around the room, but he did not find anything that could help him escape. He did not feel like standing up just yet, with his overall numb body and aching side. Yet, he forced himself to his feet. He leaned heavily against the wall, black spots dancing in his vision that he couldn't seem to get rid of for the next minute or so.

The holes in the window caught his eye. About two inches wide, made just a bit wider than that. He glanced around the cell, but he could not see any kind of video surveillance. If there were any guards around, they hadn't shown up yet. For now, he only thought about those holes and how the lack of surveillance had created a perfect opportunity.

A crazy idea popped into his head. He was going to try it. We can never know whether it was the desperate situation or the fog in his mind that made him agree with his own plan.

Ralph took a deep breath and pushed himself away from the wall. He staggered forward until he nearly smashed into the glass panel. He leaned against it, panting and recovering from the sudden outburst of pain throughout his body. He placed his hands on the cold glass and pulled himself up. Releasing one hand, it trembled and shook until he covered one of the holes with it. Without thinking about it too much or even watching, he pushed.

Not a minute later, he had squeezed his hand and wrist through the hole. With more effort, he managed to squeeze his other hand through the same hole. It resulted in a funny sight in which it seemed the glass had caught him by his wrists.

Ralph glanced out of the cell – nobody had witnessed his escape attempt yet and nobody seemed to notice, either. Blitzkrieg wasn't around, because he wasn't in a big rush to go to the closest lab and install the mind control device on Ralph. The belief that Ralph couldn't possibly be crazy enough to try to get out through one of the holes would prove to be a mistake.

Now, the next part of the escape attempt is disturbing. As a result, I will not describe it in full detail. What happens is, Ralph managed to push himself out of the cell through this two- or three-inch hole from the outside. It was a rather painful experience as well. Once he was free, he sank down his knees, panting and giving himself a moment to recover.

This moment did not last long. If he did not move, they would find him and put him back in that cell. He hoisted himself up against the wall and dragged his body through the corridor, ignoring his burning side and stinging back and aching legs. He regularly glanced over his shoulder and placed a hand on his back in the hope that it would soothe the pain (it didn't).

Finally, he reached the end of the long corridor and turned around the corridor. He sat down and closed his eyes, focusing on his appearance. The process went slower than usual, and he did not like that. First the nose transformed, then the eyes. But there was more to an appearance than nose and eyes – ears and face and skin all had to change, too, if he did not want to look like himself. Having a specific person in mind, Ralph hoped that person wasn't going to show up today.

In the distance, footsteps were coming closer. No alarm sounded, but he was certain it would be activated very soon. Ralph breathed more heavily, sweat dripping down his face. He lowered his head and pushed the thought of the guards finding him out of his mind. stress slowed down the process, and that was what he was trying to avoid.

He stood up when he was fully transformed, and at that moment the two guards noticed him. Ralph managed to convince them he had a bad feeling about the meta and believed he would escape. The meta found him, beat him up and left. The two guards were kind enough to drop him off in an empty nurse's office. From there on out, he only needed to exit the building and blend with the locals again.

When Blitzkrieg heard about the situation, he was outraged. He believed Ralph would try to escape one way or another. He also believed Ralph's creativity did not extend as far as trying to get out of the cell through a two-inch hole.

Blitzkrieg would never find Ralph again. He blended in with the masses, wearing all sorts of different faces that weren't his. He would make sure to pick a new face every week or five days, all the while either living on the streets or staying in old houses. Ralph Dibny became a figure of legend, only ever whispered about on the streets and talked about in awe. He was different; he left and just vanished. Disappeared into thin air. That was enough to elevate him to the position of 'legend'.

And such is the legacy of Ralph Dibny. 

* * *

This isn't as much a tale of caution as it is a tale of chance. If Ralph hadn't decided to do the things he had done, Earth-X's history would look completely different.

Should Blitzkrieg's plan have worked, I predict a future in which Ralph willingly allied himself with the New Reich. His abilities made it easier for him to infiltrate the resistance and gather some well-needed information. He would, as Blitzkrieg said, be the most powerful person to walk the Earth, behind Oliver and Kara. I am glad this alternate history didn't happen.

Now, I need to give credit where credit is due. As I was writing this and looking for sources, I only had what video footage could give me. I made it no secret I was writing a book about Earth-X's recent history. In my mail, there was a cd with audio of an anonymous androgynous voice detailing Ralph Dibny's exploits, going into his head at times and giving some unnecessary details I left out of this chapter. I have no reason to believe that this isn't Mr. Dibny himself. I would like to take the opportunity to tell you that I do not know where he is currently residing or what face he is wearing.

If I may be so humble as to present my opinion; I hope he will come out of hiding one day. This Earth, in its current state, can use all good people it has to get this broken society back on track. Now, I don't know whether he has any qualifications to lead, but his legend status would allow him to give the people he supports a big boost, which might also give the common folk a reason to get behind this change and to take a step in the right direction.


	5. Bad luck

If I had to summarize Roy Harper's life in only one sentence, I would tell you it's possible to do so in only two: bad luck. no matter what he did or whom he trusted, whether they were on the side of the New Reich or not at all, his decisions were either dictated or largely influenced by bad luck.

Of course, it is not the only factor that defined his life. There was a decent amount of good moments as well, even if it often goes unmentioned or, when mentioned, only appears briefly. At one point in his life, some of the bad managed to seduce him well enough not to see the bad until it was too late to change his mind.

But how does this bad luck play into his day-to-day life?

It started when he was born into a poor family that lived in the Glades, the outskirts of Star City. The family of three lived in a trailer park and Roy barely saw his parents when he was a boy. They were each juggling at least two minimum-wage jobs at any given moments to keep themselves alive.

Despite this, Roy had a good childhood. His father often proclaimed how lucky they were to live in Star City – the New Reichsmen and the Führer were looking out for them, they were doing everything in their power to help the poor and downtrodden. As any child would, Roy agreed with his father. He looked up to all those 'great people', especially the children who studied at the Academy – how he wished he could study there! – and their parents. Roy never liked it when the kids in his trailer park disrespected those people specifically, but he still managed to befriend a nice girl and a friendly boy, Sin, and Mark, who truly believed the New Reich was evil, and Mark was more vocal about it than Sin. The trio kept each other company during the day, as none of them attended school.

Roy was twelve when the New Reichmen purged the city. This was an event that occurred every decade or so. It was a simple idea: one big city-wipe swipe during which all kinds of rebels and non-believers were arrested or, if they resisted, killed. For the second time in his life – he was too young to remember the first – the soldiers came marching in their trailer park wearing terrifying masks. They left Roy and Sin alone, but they did attempt to forcibly remove Mark and his family from the park. Mark ran, and the soldiers opened fire. The screams of Mark and his family forever haunted those who heard them, especially the children – his friends – that bore witness to this cruel display of authority.

Since then, Roy's view of the Reich had drastically changed. He no longer believed the New Reichsmen were true heroes. He no longer wanted to be taught with the children of the highly influential Star City elite. The Reich was only ever good at creating monsters that killed innocents just because they ran. Those who associated with the New Reich were worthy of death.

This vengeful idea brought him upon the path he walked as an adult, and Mark's death was the bad luck in his life that shaped the way he saw the world. His father would often lament his son had changed for the worst, but Roy would disagree. His mother would silently encourage him to follow his heart – turns out she wasn't as pro-Reich as she appeared to be. Roy asked her for money to buy a proper weapon, march straight into Star City and murder the elite.

His mother was, unlike others, more than happy to provide him with a weapon and promised she'd bring one with her the next time she went to the city for supplies. The twelve-year-old had counted on a knife, dagger, mace, or anything similar. However, when she returned, he received a second-hand bow and a quiver with ten arrows.

There must have been a couple of reasons. Firstly, there was the financial aspect. The family was still poor and saw an opportunity. Children in the city, knowing that the Queens are learning how to use a bow and arrow, have taken up archery as a pastime. Some children had grown out of this, or simply did not want to do archery anymore, so there was a market out there selling second-hand good-as-new bows and arrows. It was the cheapest quality weapon they could afford.

Secondly, before his mother bought the weapon, she argued with her husband Roy needed to learn how to defend himself when he wandered away from the trailer park. He agreed, on the condition that it was a weapon Roy needed to know well before he could do substantial damage. Bow and arrow need a lot of practice before someone can use them perfectly.

Thirdly, it would teach Roy patience and keep him safe for a couple more years. Roy wasn't a very patient child, and his parents predicted it would take him a lot of time, preferably years, to master the ability to shoot an arrow. By that time, his parents hoped he had calmed down and would no longer want to kill the people in charge.

But little Roy Harper was just as impatient as he was stubborn. Every time he would fire an arrow on his makeshift archery range, he repeated the same mantra, either in his mind or out loud. My sources did not want or could not disclose what the exact mantra was. Roy never let himself forget why he was doing what he was doing. Every time he practiced, Sin was there, providing cynical commentary and the occasional sarcastic "you can do it".

Six years later, Roy had become a self-taught archer. While he had trained to get this far, he also had become known as someone who liked to start fights. He figured none of his targets were going to stand still and wait for him to aim and fire. As he became more proficient in archery, he also became a better street fighter, even winning some fights. By the time he was eighteen, nobody in his neighborhood dared to even look at him and as he passed, whispers followed. The only person who wasn't intimidated by how quickly Roy Harper had changed, was Sin.

Still, Roy believed he needed practice on live targets. He thought it best to just take down every criminal in his neighborhood. That idea backfired – everyone in the trailer park knew him already, so when he showed up, he only needed to tell them to stop it, or else. They were never more compliant. What he thought was going to take months only took one week. People nowadays still whisper on the streets: be careful, don't do anything that will draw Roy Harper's attention. He never stopped to think he was actually enforcing the New Reich's laws in this way. He didn't have a problem with the laws, anyway, but with the people who enforced and created them.

To get some practice, he moved out of the neighborhood and into a new one. each time, he tried to eradicate crime in that neighborhood. Each time, he also killed or at least seriously maimed the New Reich soldiers when they passed him on the street. There never was a short supply of soldiers, because when one pair was killed, a fresh new one was sent to investigate. Roy surprisingly managed to keep the soldier killing to a minimum as he slowly but steadily made his way to the center of Star City.

His parents had been right – learning archery had taught him patience, so much so he wasn't in a rush to kill the Star City elite anymore. He saved enough money to buy a crossbow, which he often used while he was just out on the streets as Roy and not as the vigilante with the short bow. He became a wanted person by the police forces. He broke off all contact with Sin and his family and started a new life in the suburban neighborhoods of Star City, each day inching closer to his goal of killing the Star City elite.

* * *

During a fateful night in Star City, he passed the city's casino on the main street wearing his disguise: a dark cloak, capable of hiding his crossbow. He briefly glanced inside but did not pay particular attention to the rich woman exiting the building without her three black suits, who remained inside. Not one second later, she yelled out a loud 'hey!'. Next thing he knew, a man wearing a mask ran past him, an expensive looking purse in his hands.

Roy reacted immediately. He lifted his crossbow, pushed the cloak aside and let the arrow fly. It lodged itself in the robber's thigh. The robber yelped and screamed and fell to the ground. Roy strolled over to him, snatched the purse from his hands and returned it to the lady.

This lady was peculiar. She stood tall and proud. The way she stood there and watched him like a vulture made it clear she was not used to being disobeyed and most likely always got her way, and may never have been robbed before. Upon seeing her, Roy knew he did not want to cross her and found himself to be afraid of her. He made sure not to look at her face when he handed her the purse.

"I could've handled it," she said in a way that sounded borderline patronizing. He nodded.

"Of course," he said, "but I was faster this time." He finally lifted his head and as soon as he saw her face, he froze. She glared at him and he stared. I can only assume he was overtaken by her beauty, as later behavior shows he does believe she is beautiful. There lay a curious smile on her face, and Roy could not help but grin sheepishly.

"I didn't catch your name," she said.

"Roy," he responded after a few seconds of silence. he would have easily given his last name to her, too, but he came to his senses and did not say anything. It may be the one good idea he had at that time.

"Roy." She tested the name. "Would you like to join me?"

The poor man, unfortunately, did not stand a chance against her charm. He agreed, stepped in the back of her limousine and they left for her apartment.

We have no records about what happened in the limousine, but I have tried to create a semi-reliable reconstruction. The lady gave the address to the driver, and then Roy realized he had been talking to Thea Merlyn-Queen and not some random elite woman. He was wise enough not to attack her immediately. Thea exposed him as the red archer, giving the argument of the cloak and crossbow. She allowed him to explain his actions and he bluffed, saying all the men he killed had something against the Reich. She offered him the job of 'companion' – her brother, Oliver, wants her to have a bodyguard that always stays close, and she disagrees. Calling the bodyguard a companion sounded better. Roy probably impulsively took the job. I think he may have believed staying closer to her may increase either his chance to kill her or to have her. either way, he had made his decision and sided, albeit temporarily, with miss Thea Merlyn-Queen.

After a fifteen-minute drive, they arrived at the Merlyn tower. Malcolm Merlyn lived on the top floor, his son and daughter living only one floor below him. Roy and Thea took the elevator to the 54th floor. During this elevator ride, Roy seemed to have trouble with the confined space. The elevator was rather small – counting him and Thea, there was only enough space for two more people. This claustrophobia probably came up by realizing the weight of his mistake or because he figured there was always going to be a camera pointed at him.

The moment Roy laid eyes on the apartment, he did not show any signs of nervousness. The elevator opened its doors in the living room, and Roy looked around like an excited child on Christmas morning. He walked to the large window that covered the entire wall and looked outside, watching the city he had vowed to save from above.

"Never been this high?" she asked him. He turned to her.

"Never seen this big." The living room alone was bigger than the size of his latest apartment. He had never lived in a big place, and the amount of space he saw disturbed him. So many had to live packed together, while Thea and her half-brother shared so much space.

The door in the far back, leading to another part of the apartment, opened and out walked Thea's older brother, Tommy Merlyn. He was called in to deal with some rebels. As a New Reichsman one of Oliver's closest confidants, he was more than happy to answer the call. However, he was not happy to see a fresh face in his apartment, and especially not one that stared at his half-sister.

He stayed for a moment, glancing at Thea and Roy, who had turned their heads towards him. not a second later, he sighed and let his shoulders hang. His focus shifted to Thea.

"What did I tell you about picking up strays?" There was an annoyed and threatening undertone in his voice.

"It's all right, Tommy," Thea said in an equally irritated tone. "He—"

"Who is he?" He demanded. He came closer and towered over her, but she wasn't easily intimidated. This happened often, especially when Thea brought someone into the house she wasn't supposed to bring.

"Roy," the red archer responded, consciously not mentioning his last name, possibly hoping to keep his alter-ego a secret. Tommy nodded, a look of disdain in his eyes when he glanced at the newcomer.

"The red archer." Roy really didn't put enough effort in keeping that identity a secret. He should have paid more attention to that aspect of vigilante life. Tommy looked at Thea again. "This is not a good idea."

"I disagree," Thea said, taking a step to the right. Whether she did it consciously or not, there is no telling. What we can see, is that she stepped in between her brother and her new companion. Maybe she's gained the reflex after Tommy put either fear or a sword in every companion candidate he's ever met, or maybe she just wanted to look at him more directly.

"How about everyone he's killed?" Tommy glared daggers at Roy, who started to feel nervous, his eyes on the sword in Tommy's hands. "Our soldiers, our officers." Somehow, Roy did find the power to speak up regardless of what was going to happen to him if he did.

"They were all against the Reich," he said. The Merlyns turned their heads at the same time, one with a more murderous gaze than the other. He gulped and continued: "I don't harm or kill unless there is no other way."

"There never seems to be another way," Tommy retorted. I must admit that Mr. Merlyn is correct - when Roy had chosen to engage specific Reich officers, he never left them without at least two major physical injuries. He never seemed to spare a life or decided to show mercy.

"Because all of them had made plans to take down the Reich. And if they hadn't, they did display a certain animosity towards the Reich," he said, looking Tommy in the eye. This was an easy bluff. When talking to some Reich officers, he noticed one of them had a particular skeptical view of the world they lived in. Roy had met him several times later, too, and during their conversations, he learned that - to a certain degree - every officer and soldier did have something against the Reich. Whether it was a specific law, the way people were punished or the ongoing segregation, everyone always had an opinion that clashed with the views of the New Reich.

"For your sake, you better not be lying to me." Just like that, the animosity Tommy had previously shown disappeared, and his tone was a bit more neutral. I still have no idea why he changed so suddenly, but I do believe he may not have wanted to waste his energy on Roy. He turned his head to Thea again. "Does Oliver know?"

Thea shook her head. "No."

"I'm still going to have to tell him. He's not going to like it."

She had folded her arms and looked at Tommy. "Does it look like I care?"

Tommy sighed again and stepped into the elevator. When the doors closed, the tension that was present in the room lifted.

"Strained relationship?" Thea shrugged and answered, but she did not look at him.

"It's not perfect, but they're family. Even though they can be idiots sometimes."

* * *

Fate would have it that Roy and Thea caught on like a house on fire. He was a good companion, even if Oliver objected to it. They went everywhere together. He got to meet all the people that mean something in this world, except maybe the Führer. In other words, he knew who precisely to target in a well-planned attack, except for the big man at the top.

As they went on missions together, their companionship grew into something more. Roy moved in - the perks of a companion - and more often than not had shared the bed with his employer. The more time he spent with her, the more reluctance he showed towards killing her, having no trouble thinking of killing everyone she cares about. It was no secret he was infatuated with her and that she intrigued him, and his biggest mistake was taking that offer she once made him.

Three weeks into the job, Malcolm Merlyn and the Führer were killed within the same 48 hours. Malcolm was the first deceased, the Führer the second. They found two red arrows - the ones Roy would use - in each torso and the media pointed towards him when they speculated about the killer.

But it wasn't him. Roy spent all that time with Thea. This is the only case where his infatuation with Thea had a positive effect. Oliver came to collect the criminal, but he and Thea fell out hard. Oliver left empty-handed and had to be content with just being the new Führer, while Thea legally changed her name and from that day forth, she was known as Thea Merlyn. The news quietly and gradually stopped reporting the Fürher's death, and Roy was no longer targeted.

If I brush over this now, it is because this is Roy's chapter. I will go into more details of this event further in this book.

Roy spent several months being happy with what he was doing. The Red Archer, the name he used on missions, would only show up when Arsenal (Thea) was called in the field by the New Reichsmen. However, about a month after Malcolm's death, she decided she no longer wanted to support her maternal half-brother's cause and quit the New Reichsmen.

Roy started to get his plan back on track when he learned that his neighborhood, the trailer park where he'd grown up, had been decimated. In his absence, the place did not descend into chaos, but those he inspired to do good had risen up against the New Reich with nothing more than old baseball bats and some rocks they found on the ground. The troublemakers have been publicly executed as rebels, and some random women paid an entirely different and terrible price. One of these women was Sin.

I can imagine these images reminded him of what happened when he was twelve years old. The furious outburst caught on tape - his room had a camera watching his every move - was the only time I truly saw him at his worst; raw emotion poured into every action as he smashed some equipment to pieces, possibly wishing he had been there to prevent the situation from escalating. But he couldn't have. He was on high surveillance and never out of sight for too long. They would not have let him help.

Unfortunately, Thea had decided to look at the security tapes of his room that evening and she witnessed his outburst. That was the most amount of bad luck Roy has had in his life, and this was the one action that cost him his life as he knew it.

The next day, Thea and Roy traveled to Central City to visit Mercury Labs, the workplace of Dr. Snow and Dr. Stein, where they were offered a peculiar device. Roy was told it would enhance his mental capacities, and that when Thea wore an identical copy, they would be able to talk to each other telepathically – extremely valuable for missions. Roy could already put his on while the assistant fetched Thea's device.

Roy knew something was up, especially because they did not go on missions anymore. He only fully came to his senses when the device was attached to his head and Thea held the remote in her hand. Thea pressed the button before Roy could remove the device. She liked her companions to be obedient as well as emotionless towards the news. Luckily, she had grown fond of him and did not want to kill him for displaying such anguish after the deaths of those who, in her eyes, deserved it.

Roy would spend the rest of his life a slave in everything but name to Thea Merlyn. He and his master stayed on Earth-X when they were asked to participate in the invasion of Earth-1. Roy would only witness the beginning of the Fall of the New Reich, and many speculate that his untimely death in an otherwise unrelated murder has started the decline of the then current institution of power. 

* * *

I may not have always agreed with his choices, especially those that involved miss Merlyn. Yet, I cannot deny that he acted rather bravely at times, even when that bravery bordered recklessness and stupidity, such as going about with a crossbow. Through his actions, he was a thorn in the side for the Reich and, albeit briefly, he was a vigilante. I had to include him in this part of the book.

Still, Roy Harper is one of those people who will never be mentioned in the history books. If this trend continues, he will always be known as the henchman of, instead of his own person. On the other hand, the Red Archer who wanted to save his neighborhood from the Reich's injustice will enter recent memory as a myth and a true hero of the slums of Star City.


	6. Death and Rebirth

The next characters are caught in a constant cycle of death and rebirth, never to be broken, never to be with anyone other than their soulmate, never to live a full life. Their lives are littered with death by Vandal Savage, and their many lives are lost to history whilst their eternal murderer walks around an immortal man.

My deepest gratitude goes out to Dr. Aldous Boardman, whose research on these extraordinary people has been invaluable for this short chapter. Without his incredibly detailed insights into their many lives – especially their first lives – I would not have been able to present this chapter to you.

This will not have the conventional set-up you have gotten accustomed to. Instead of talking about their lives as vigilantes, I will primarily paint an image of who they were before they decided to pick up the weapons. I do admit that this was a late addition to the manuscript. What intrigued me is not what they did per se, but what they were supposed to do. As I researched part three of these Tales, I stumbled upon video footage of a time traveler having a conversation with the late Dr. David Palmer in 1965. He came to warn the doctor of the future and told him of notable threats who were crucial to an early fall of the New Reich. These two people were on the list, and the time traveler mentioned they were responsible for over 500 casualties among New Reich officers and soldiers. I cannot tell how big their threat was, or how their existence as threats would have influenced and shaped this world, but they were considered important and dangerous, and as such I will treat their story with respect.

My apologies for the brevity of the chapter. Still, I do believe it worthwhile to include this tale, though it may not be as insightful to the workings of this world as the other stories.

* * *

Once upon a time, during the time of the Egyptians, the pharaoh had a young and attractive son named Khufu. During his prime years, the pharaoh had a worthy advisor, the High Priest Hath-Set, who later chose the name Vandal Savage for himself. I am still wondering if he is aware of the incriminating nature of his name and whether this was deliberate or an accident he stuck with. This man was of the ripe old age of fifty, and he felt a strong love for the court’s High Priestess, Chay-Ara. She was beautiful and about prince Khufu’s age. More often than not, he pursued and courted her, but she always rejected his advances. One day, Vandal learned that Chay-Ara and Khufu were in a relationship.

He was furious and mad and especially jealous. If he couldn’t have her, nobody could. It just so happened that when he went in to take her life, Khufu was present as well. The men fought, but Khufu did not want to hurt the High Priest. He was killed, and a sobbing Chay-Ara died not much later.

They did not know of the meteor shower that night. If they saw the lights, they would assume it was a sign from the gods. Still, this meteor shower wasn’t made up of normal meteors. There are only literary references to this event, as none of the hit the Earth. We know nothing of its material properties, but it did have a profound – and possibly magical – effect on the trio. Vandal stole their life forces for himself, extending his life. Chay-Ara and Khufu remained dead, but somewhere else, at the exact moment of their murders, two babies were born. A boy and a girl, who were the prince and High Priestess reborn.

Ten years after the crime, Vandal had fled the city and ended up in a village bordering modern Palestina. There, he encountered a boy who looked like a young Khufu. His “girlfriend” at the time resembled Chay-Ara so much, even in her young age, that she could have been her twin sister. ‘Khufu’ remembered him – he knew Vandal’s name – as an evil person, but they did not know where they would know this from. Trying to protect his identity, he killed the children and moved beyond the borders.

Over the years, Vandal Savage encountered many more doubles of his beloved and her lover. Each time, he would kill them. By then, he had figured out what had happened and that killing them would grant him more years to live. Hunting them down to kill them had become more a sport than a way to survive. He often could not find them as children, but once they reached adulthood and had found one another, it was easy to find them, though it was no prerequisite.

The world around him changed drastically during his 4,000-year life. The only reoccurring event was the Hawks emerging time and time again, and he liked that nobody but him noticed. By the time he enters Central City, he has killed the couple over 200 times, and only 50 or so times did they fight back.

But I digress. The most recent reincarnations of Chay-ara and Khufu are Kendra Saunders and Carter Hall, living in Central City under the regime of the New Reich.

* * *

As children, they lived agonizingly close to one another, but somehow never met until they were twenty-one years old. She worked as a nurse in the nearby hospital and he was to be treated there; he had received injuries during his job as a New Reich soldier. They instantly fell in love, but neither seemed to remember their previous lives. If they did remember, they spared each other by never mentioning it.  
Three months later, around the time that Oliver Queen was crowned Führer, they were married and Kendra Saunders became Kendra Hall. They moved into his apartment and lived happily, and blissfully unaware of the danger they were in.

Vandal Savage was so certain that Chay-Ara and Khufu reincarnated on the European continent, he spent years searching for them in Germany’s Reich. Dr. David Palmer had him come over from Germany as an advisor to his company, to his son – who had only recently stepped in to be the CEO – and, if he was good enough, to the Führer himself. He started working as soon as he set foot on American soil.  
He met Kendra coincidentally. Vandal walked through the streets of the city when her face caught his eyes. He stopped on the sidewalk and watched discretely as she passed him. He stared at her over his shoulder until she was out of sight. She turned her head to him once, and I suspect she could feel his gaze burning into her back.

Not a week later, he found their address. He broke into their house and, mirroring what happened during their first life, he killed Carter in front of Kendra before murdering her. the news blamed it on a randomly armed robber, and Vandal Savage’s name was not to be mentioned anywhere in the reports. Killing a New Reich soldier was a serious offense, and Vandal Savage was banned. Should he decide to return, Carter’s colleagues were allowed to kill him on sight. Vandal boarded a plane under supervision and smiled the entire flight.

* * *

I wish I could have told you about their exploits as heroes and what prompted them to do the right things, but I am not a time traveler nor can I look into different timelines. however, I can tell you that somewhere in the world, at the moment I am writing this, there are two four-year-olds out there, a boy and a girl, who look very similar to the prince and the high priestess, and who are the latest reincarnations of Khufu and Chay-Ara, trapped in an eternal cycle of death and rebirth and no chance of escaping their fates.


	7. Young love

The following story had to be almost fully reconstructed. My main source of information specifically asked me to cite him as an anonymous source. The societal values and norms ingrained into his mind had reluctantly brought him to me and he wished to share this story, but he did not want to be known publicly out of fear of retribution. Even after convincing him this book was in the first place for people of other Earths, and only in the second place for Earth-X citizens, he still did not give me permission to reveal any information regarding this person.

My source knew the following two well enough to capably tell me and capably reconstruct this story, as well as give me more information on what happened when the tapes stop filming, or when there is no recording or video footage. He is extremely valuable as a source, and my primary source for this chapter, since recordings of these events are few and scarce. So, my deepest gratitude goes out to him.

The following tale does not detail a physical fight, but a mental fight. This is the story of two very brave young men, namely Curtis and Paul.

* * *

Curtis was extremely excited when he finally got a job at Mercury Labs. Of course, he was just the janitor, but hey, it was better than no job at all. It was a shame such a brilliant mind would ever go to waste.

Still, he was one of the first black people to be employed at this world-renowned company, and at the time, Curtis did not even care he was hired in a job that offered him no chance to grow or to further develop his skills. Honestly, he was just excited to walk through the aisles of the company’s building, especially after being rejected by Palmer tech, over in Star City.

During the first month, he got used to the rhythms of the company. His “mentor” taught him when he should be cleaning which part of the building, and that if the office workers’ desks needed cleaning, he would have to work after-hours - though they don’t trust a black man to be wandering inside the building at night, he did get one hour after office hours. He learned to never look anyone with a higher position than him in the eyes, and if the CEO was on the same floor, it was probably best to stay out of sight altogether. His company may have hired him, but if the CEO ever laid eyes on this young man, he wouldn’t hesitate to fire Curtis on the spot. Despite the shitty treatment everyone was giving him, he still enjoyed working for the company and marveled at all the equipment the scientists could use. Seeing all the advanced technology was tantalizing and satisfying at the same time, and he left for home with a smile on his face every time, despite feeling exhausted at the end of each day, knowing how lucky he was to have this job. He never complained and was satisfied with the little money he earned.

Within that month, Curtis found his place inside the company and never strayed from the path he was dictated to walk on. After a couple of months, he never had to look where he was going anymore and he was convinced he would be able to do his rounds blindly – that was how familiar he had become with the building’s layout. But one day, he stumbled upon an anomaly – the company’s mail distributor. Despite the technological advancements, there were some things that were still communicated through letters. Only by pure coincidence did the mail distributor’s path cross with the janitor’s.

This mail distributor was called Paul. He came around the corner, but Curtis didn’t see him and he almost ran into Paul’s cart. They had a short conversation – the cameras only picked up on the visuals, but they did not record any sound. Either way, the conversation lasted two minutes, maybe three minutes, and the entire time both men awkwardly stared at each other, apologizing and making it even more awkward for each other. They continued on their ways and at separate times, glanced over their shoulders to catch one last glimpse of their new acquaintance.

There may be one characteristic both men possess that you may have already guessed: they’re gay. In a regime like the New Reich, this is a serious problem, especially since one of them is also a black man.

Society taught them to hide their ungodly and unnatural impulses or suffer the consequences of not complying. Even the little things such as holding hands or staring at each other for too long can get you sent to a concentration camp. Being gay is also widely regarded as a choice that people keep making despite its illegal status. So, you can imagine the excruciating pain in their hearts and fear when they finally realized they truly liked each other.

However, they did make an effort to see each other once a week, in the break room. They talked for a minute or five – without being awkward about it – and then continued to do their work. Their faces always lit up when they saw one another and they became excited, possibly even overjoyed, when their paths irregularly crossed in the hallways. When they spoke, they smiled, and each encounter ended with a hearty goodbye and see you next time.

Curtis might have been the first one to realize it. Two months after their initial meeting, his gaze lingered for a little too long as Paul pushed his cart towards the elevator. A content smile faded into a look of realization and understanding. He quickly continued work as if nothing had happened, but the cameras had caught this moment. nothing was done about it, though, since they were clearly good friends. And he’s black – maybe he was just glad to have someone to talk to who did not use that condescending tone in his voice. They let them be – happy employees were key to make a better company, even if those employees were just the mailman and the janitor.

One day, Curtis received a phone call from Paul. He had problems with his car, and paying a mechanic would definitely make him broke, so maybe Curtis could help. Curtis, though he was no mechanic, agreed to come over and take a look at it. Not even thirty minutes later, Curtis had arrived at Paul’s. Paul led him to the garage and Curtis examined the car. Paul kept him company throughout the process and made him coffee. It took him a while to figure out what the problem was and, in the end, it took the two of them to fix the car and make it start again.

Paul was in a tight spot financially, and he could not afford to give Curtis a monetary compensation for his time and help. As such, Curtis’ payment was a good meal. They ate in silence and did not speak. while they were doing the dishes – Curtis insisted on helping out – Paul brought up discrimination against minorities in their conversation and slowly confessed that he was gay, and had possibly caught feelings for him. If anyone was going to understand his feelings and not discriminate or call the cops on him, it would be Curtis. After Paul was finished talking and was glad that he cleared that up, Curtis then confessed his love for the young man he just helped out. That night, they shared their first kiss.

* * *

After that encounter, they acted considerably more amicable towards each other at work. Sure, they knew better than to display their love for one another in a public space, but their talks were not as hidden as they used to be. They had chosen to portray themselves as best friends on Mercury Labs’ premises so that people might not be surprised when they learned the two often visited each other, or when they seemed so happy to see one another when they crossed each other’s paths. It was only a plan in the making, but if it worked, they were going to continue doing this.

Paul and Curtis continued visiting each other after hours. Usually, to provide an alibi, one would call the other to ask for help with something that they couldn’t possibly do on their own; or, in Paul’s case, he’d ask Curtis for help. These dinners were usually hosted at Paul’s, because the way he lived in poverty with quite shitty equipment was the perfect cover for Curtis to come over and have their romantic evenings.

On top of that, Curtis loved helping out his beloved and make his home less shitty. Curtis didn’t live in the best circumstances either, but Paul had it considerably worse in terms of housing. Paul blamed poor life choices for this fate, but Curtis did not care about this.

They kept up the charade for four months. Still, one of them slipped up after these months of secrecy. It might have been an offhanded comment, a not-so-well-thought-out response to a stupid everyday question, just a little something that briefly came up in conversation. Whatever it was, the other employee reported that the janitor and mailman were up to something.

HR management took it upon themselves to investigate the situation. Their idea of ‘investigation’, however, was watching the security tapes and expecting something incriminating to immediately pop up. But it didn’t, because these lovers were not idiots and concealed their love well.

This unnamed frustrated employee was not happy when the report was finished and when HR declared the mailman and janitor innocent. Paul and Curtis, who were worried about this investigation, were overjoyed. This employee, however, was convinced that these two low-level blue-collar workers were up to something seriously illegal. If the company wasn’t listening to his complaints, then maybe the New Reich would.

As per the norm, the New Reich listened and took immediate action. When Paul and Curtis were at work, the New Reich sent their secret services to plant tiny cameras and microphones in their homes. The secret services also tapped their phones, just in case. Neither Curtis nor Paul noticed their homes were bugged and continued with life, not knowing the danger hanging over their heads.

The secret services did not need to wait long. Into the fourth day of investigation, Paul rang Curtis. There was something wrong with the TV’s wiring, and Curtis quickly accepted the offer to help. He did make the mistake of asking what they would have for dinner, but this was not incriminating enough to arrest them yet.

Curtis arrived at Paul’s and went straight for the TV. Paul had wanted to help out, as he so often did, but Curtis shook his head. “This could be dangerous,” he said, sounding genuinely worried. “It could electrocute you.”

“It could do that to you, too,” Paul shot back. Curtis briefly turned his eyes away from the TV’s wiring to look at his boyfriend in all but name.

“I know what I’m doing,” Curtis said. “Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” That was the argument that eventually persuaded Paul to start cooking dinner. An hour or so later, dinner was ready and Curtis had repaired the TV.

“Look delicious!” Curtis said, sitting down at the dinner table and looking at the plate in front of him. Paul looked away from the spaghetti and stared lovingly at Curtis.

“So do you,” he said. he might have been quite impatient for some personal time with his boyfriend. This phrase, however cheesy it sounded, prompted them to take the intimacy they wanted and which they only every so often got. They leaned in for a kiss and the next moment, they are smooching.

That was enough evidence for the special forces that had set up camp outside. They burst into the house when the camera picked up on this intimacy and startled the lovers. They overpowered them five to one and roughly pulled the lovers apart. On top of that, being those ‘disgusting creatures’ for loving someone of the same sex, they received a spontaneous beating, neither one being able to help the other, however much they wanted it.

“You are hereby arrested for taking part in illegal activities,” the leader of the group said. the victims of police brutality barely heard it – they were too busy trying to protect themselves from the incoming blows. They were detained and taken away in separate vans, going to different concentration camps and not receiving any medical treatment for their wounds.

After the fall of the New Reich, Paul was once again a free man and walked away from the concentration camp mostly unscathed, but traumatized by the events. He traveled back to Central City almost immediately after his liberation in search for Curtis. Paul never found him; Curtis was killed as a part of his punishment – black _and_ gay? Unthinkable! – a year prior to the fall.

* * *

This tale is obviously different from the other ones in this book. These young men were no rebels, and they most certainly weren’t vigilantes. Then you may be wondering, why include this tale in this part of the story?

Because they were different. They were not violent. True, they may not have been particularly happy with the way their government discriminated against gay love, but they were good citizens of the Reich nonetheless and they would never take the law into their own hands to fix certain injustices. I would argue these two, other than being dissatisfied with that one point of contempt, were actually happy with the lives they were living before they were shipped off to the concentration camps. Both of them could have been off so much worse before they met.

Still, despite their views and their non-violent natures, it is important not to think less of this tale because of its lack of violence or vigilantism. These men went against their irrational government, completely unknowingly opposing it, just by loving each other and by not giving in to the civic duty to report each other. There are rumors that, even while they were separated and tortured in the concentration camps for months on end, they still refused to betray each other in exchange for freedom, as so many others before them had caved in.

They may not come to mind when you hear the word ‘hero’, but they have every right to be remembered, such as other brave couples outing themselves when the political climate had gotten better. Their love was stronger than the societal norms and values and fear of punishment ingrained in their subconscious minds. They may not have set a precedent, but representation matters. Their story, as well as those of other suffering minorities, needs to be told.


	8. On air

For as long as she could remember, Leslie Willis always wanted to be a journalist. When other children of her age mentioned prominent members of the New Reich as their heroes, Leslie never even considered those to have an influence on her life. No, she looked up to reporters and followed many stories of specific journalists and, though there wasn't much diversity in the media landscape, she loved the written media. She particularly looked up to this one reporter, who specialized in criminal activities. That bank robber was found and brought to justice, this rebel base in the middle of the city was blown up to stop them. some news items were more click bait than anything else – top ten hiding places for a rebel, five signs your neighbor may be a rebel, and so on. Leslie loved it nonetheless. This reporter was the reason she wanted to become a journalist.

Not surprisingly, Leslie Willis worked hard to achieve this one lifelong dream. Be a journalist, go to the line of fire, report directly and immediately, while the action was still unfolding. In college, she did focus more on written media, especially the written electronic media. There was this thrill about getting the latest news as quickly to the people as she possibly could. Newspapers were usually a day old, and everyone could theoretically already know what happened before buying a copy. The internet was more direct, and people received the latest news only minutes after it happened. During this course, part of her grade depended on a blog she had to set up and the way she reported some news independently. She played it safe in choosing the topics and using a speech-to-text program to speed up the process. She graduated with flying colors and was offered a job at the official news outlet of the New Reich in National City.

It was the perfect job: writer for an online newspaper. They apparently hired writers specifically for those internet articles. She would have to start at the bottom, but that was no big deal – everyone has to start somewhere. The senior writers often left the office building in pursuit of a story, but during her first months, Leslie was only allowed to write the material assigned by her mentor, after he'd gathered the information. It must have been a test on their side, she told herself, to see how well she could write. She retained her trusted method, namely speech-to-text, and soon her supervisors believed she was good enough to be sent out in the field and take interviews herself – under supervision, of course.

That was when she was confronted with the hard and sad truth.

It was a simple story, and it was not too dramatic or sensational. There weren't even any rebels involved. Leslie went out and interviewed the poor woman whose husband attempted to kill her, but whom she killed instead by accident. She said he'd always been rather violent and that he believed this behavior was justified. The violence only escalated the past few months. He'd started drinking and thought his wife was cheating on him – she wasn't – which ended in a murder attempt. One painful detail; her late husband was the New Reich leader of the Logistics department in National City. Work pressure was doubled and stress weighed down on him, but he apparently had been a model employee.

After Leslie wrote her article, her mentor changed it so it would be 'appropriate' for their audience. This minor change was the omission of the husband's profession. This minor change was the first indication that the news she was supposed to present to the people was not entirely objective, as it should be, but highly manipulated.

Leslie dived into the archives and came to the not-so-shocking conclusion that the media was incredibly partisan and catered to the views of their government. Whenever the New Reich was mentioned, it was never painted in a negative light. They always used to superlatives to describe its impeccable state, the generous leader and the wonderful people. In sharp contrast, the rebels never did anything good – and if they did, they never were called rebels. Still, even if one of a large group was confirmed to be a rebel, everyone in their presence had to be a rebel as well, according to the media. If a New Reich official stepped out of line, he was only ever 'a good citizen' – and if even if there was no way to separate the criminal from the prestigious job, the media always found a way to pin the crime on someone else to keep their government's reputation spotless.

This was a problem Leslie saw within all types of media she consumed – there was not one exception. She recognized she had been spoon-fed these lies since birth, and that what she saw or read wasn't always the full truth. In fact, to wake up more Reichspeople, she was going to become an independent reporter with a vlog. The odds were stacked against her – the last person who tried to be an honest reporter ended up dying by Blitzkrieg's hands.

She would not write articles this time. No, she turned to another strong medium: radio and podcasts. Once on the internet, always on the internet – it can never truly be deleted and though the New Reich may try to hide it, people could still stumble on it unintentionally and, if they were curious enough, they would listen. She posted them directly, never from the same electronic device, and always leaving the computer or phone behind as soon as she'd uploaded her latest episode. The New Reich had a tendency to show up almost immediately after she posted something new – she wasn't just committing crimes, but she also was a serious threat to their nearly infallible propaganda machine, and Führer forbid she went against it.

* * *

One day, Leslie was running for her life from the New Reich soldiers as they were catching up to her. She had no idea where to run to since she had moved to a part of town she was unfamiliar with. Carrying only her phone, she fled and ran into a hallway with a dead end, and the soldiers trapped her. Still, Leslie refused to give up without a fight.

Then, the particle accelerator exploded. It had no life-altering effects on the soldiers, were just thrown into the wall by the shockwave. However, it did affect Leslie, who braved the shockwave, also expecting to be thrown into the wall. everything went dark and when the soldiers came to, their suspect was long gone and her phone, now with a cracked screen, was left behind.

Little did they know, Leslie had been transformed into a feared meta-human. She ditched her name and chose the moniker Livewire for herself. Quite fitting, considering the dark matter released by the particle accelerator explosion gave her electrokinesis – in other words, she could control and become electricity. On top of that, like electricity, she could also "jump" into TVs and phones and place her image on each screen, able to communicate with anyone watching it.

This was an incredible experience since it allowed her to literally stay out of her enemies' hands by staying on the wires. The New Reich could impossibly cut off any power lines to counter her – the people they tried to control would be mad. She had become untouchable and unstoppable.

Livewire no longer needed to record radio shows or podcasts. She now appeared on any TV screen in National City and talked to the people, who most of the time pulled out their phones and posted their findings on the internet. More often than not, the people she tried to educate just stared in shock and barely registered what she was saying, then freaked out and called the police forces when they realized she wasn't a recording. Once in a while, someone held a conversation with her, and she would either succeed in opening their eyes or at least plant a seed of doubt in their minds, which could lead to something more.

Once, accidentally, she made contact with a black man going by the name of James Olsen. He saw potential in her, listened and agreed with her points, already having realized this. Then, he did something no-one had done before: he offered her a job. James was part of the resistance and he frequently hung out with the general. Livewire and the general later discussed the conditions of her (non-paid) work with the resistance, and she agreed to the terms. She continued what she was doing already, but if she ever accidentally (or not) stumbled upon information the resistance may need, she would communicate or send it to them.

Still, despite her reputation and her involvement with the resistance, she refused to hide. She was visible for everyone; there wasn't a person in the city that did not know her name; she was untouchable. People either listened to her or alerted the authorities. Either way, the New Reich knew Livewire was active and they were trying to capture her without cutting off the power grid. You could always count on her being someplace with a high density of people, or someplace where you couldn't immediately cut off the power.

Unfortunately for her, she had become a great threat to the New Reich – so much so that they had specific people working on her capture as their job. Along with that, Livewire herself had become arrogant and reckless. Being in a constant state of electricity and not being able to get caught will do that to you.

Harrison Wells was involved. As was the other Wells, the doppelgänger speedster from Earth-1. Their combined minds were enough to set a trap. They lured her away from the comfort of the power grid. They shut off electricity at the abandoned factory, and Wells and the speedster turned on the sprinklers when she tried to attack them. Electricity and water don't go well together. She was arrested and detained. She was tortured for months on end, her captors demanding to know what she knew about the resistance. Livewire was strong and all she ever told them were taunts and vile insults, as well as the promise to never give her what they wanted.

Approximately five months after her capture, she passed away during a torture session. According to various sources, she only lamented the way the media was going to report on her death, such as using terms like 'rebel' and 'enemy of the people'.

* * *

Leslie Willis was a courageous woman with a mission. She saw how unjust the world can be and trusted nobody to change it, so she tried to shake things up herself. Unfortunately, people – especially those in charge – are wary of any change and stopped her before she could do even more damage.

There is an important lesson to be learned here; a lesson I didn't learn for many years and when I did, it was too late. It's the lesson Leslie wanted to teach everyone she visited, and probably the one she wanted to be her legacy.

Don't blindly trust the media. Off course, many would want you to believe to not trust the news, period, but I wouldn't go as far as to leave the adverb out of the equation. It can be good to trust the news – you should just always be critical about the news you are being presented with.

How is the news item framed? What verbs or adjectives or nouns do they use to describe certain people? Do they show favoritism towards certain topics or people, and do they report on those instead of something else? And, most importantly, who decides what you'll see on the news, and are they non-partisan or not?

Still, what they say on the news must be true. Possibly. Mind the way they talk about facts and presumptions. If something is breaking news, do they approach every detail that hasn't been confirmed as a fact, or do they use specific speech markers to indicate presumption?

The thing is, media is powerful. The way it uses language and shapes our own use of language is terrifying. If they repeat something – anything – often enough, people will start believing it, no matter the facts. There is a reason why propaganda through news reports works so well.

I am not asking you to avoid media altogether, because that's impossible. Just be careful with what you read and see, especially when it comes from questionable sources and even mostly credible sources. When information is presented to you, take it with a grain of salt if you have to. Not every news item is written or presented with good intentions at heart.


	9. Lab rat

It wasn't easy for Jefferson Jackson to find a steady job after he had finished high school and the obligatory military service. The school he attended in Central City was good enough for him to allow him to get good grades. However, the curriculum did include formal military training and many people from the poorer areas – which were usually also inhabited by minorities – sent their children to that one school. It was funded by a local rich person who wanted to invest in the future by making these children grateful enough for the proper free education so that they would choose to work for the Reich eventually. That rich person was Dr. David Palmer. But this story is not about him.

Jefferson, or Jax as he was known as, did not fall for the thinly-veiled plan. Joining the military was never an option for him, anyway. His father had died on a military mission overseas and Jax did not want his mother to lose another relative to the Reich. Going to university or continuing his education unfortunately wasn't an option, either. They did not like it when people of color became smart. Jax had to find another way of making money and doing something with his life that did not include the Reich.

He eventually settled on juggling being a postman and running a garage in his spare time. Only the former provided a steady income, even if it wasn't much. He was responsible for the mail delivery in his neighborhood, a neighborhood that many postmen never liked entering because they believed it was a dangerous neighborhood. Also, it had people of color.

(Unfortunately, even as the current situation is improving for minorities, this mentality is hard to eradicate and many fellow survivors of the Fall of the New Reich still actively think like this. I do believe it will get attention in the future. One step at a time.)

Jax was always done early with his rounds – nobody truly sent many letters anymore, and they did not trust him enough yet to send him on a route in a white neighborhood. He often had nothing to do in the afternoon and the evening. He started the garage and mechanic business to keep busy and to bring his technical expertise to the service of the neighborhood – it would also provide extra money, which would help him make ends meet.

In the beginning, only friends and acquaintances and other folks from the neighborhood visited his garage. Everyone knew everyone and when they heard Jax was willing to fix their rundown cars and secondhand bikes, they all collectively decided to give it a shot. Jax did his best to help them and only charged them what they could miss – he never asked them the full price that other garages would, as that would bankrupt them. The extra money wasn't a lot, but he was happy his neighborhood was grateful to him.

Soon, he wasn't known as Jax the postman anymore, or even 'just Jax', but Jax the mechanic. He was more than willing to help anyone any time – when he wasn't doing his rounds – and even willing to leave his garage and go to the homes of those people who could not take their cars to him anymore. He'd fix them on the spot, no extra fee charged. These actions helped many of his friends, as well as many others, who didn't have to fear to lose their jobs anymore because a lack of transportation would result in tardiness. Another positive was the steady, but little, income he received, and the knowledge that if the postal service ever fired him, he had a fallback plan. Jax had counted on that possibility, though he had not counted on his garage to become more successful than it was now.

One day, a white couple had heard of his garage and came most likely to humiliate him rather than by accident, as they claimed. They demanded him to fix a rattling sound that came from somewhere in their car. Jax went about this with the utmost care and respect and with the knowledge that even a tiny misstep would mean the end of this career, or possibly his life as he knew it. He was fully aware these customers came to ensure this misstep would happen. Possibly to make Jax' customers return to the other garage in the neighboring predominantly white neighborhood, which seemed to get a kick out of seeing the people of color's faces go pale when they see how much they owe the mechanic

However, as the customers left, the couple found nothing to complain about. they had made the mistake of advertising their intentions beforehand and when their friends learned Jax had fixed the car they probably would have sold second-hand otherwise, the word about his skills spread beyond his neighborhood. Soon, he attracted more white clients. At first, they treated him as they would every person of color, but they came to the realization that Jax did not react like they expected him to react towards all the foul words they used. He maintained a friendly, kind and professional disposition, never provocative, mean or bitter, and he treated their property with great care. It was more than enough to build some white clientele. The money they paid was equal to what they Jax's white colleagues, and he spent the excess money (the money he did not need to survive) on improving infrastructure in his neighborhood and helping some of his friends and neighbors to set up some other businesses as well, which Jax's customers could visit while Jax was doing his job. Slowly, steadily, the neighborhood started to prosper, and Jax always looked back in awe and amazement to their accomplishments – not just his, but of the neighborhood as a whole.

As you may be able to guess at this point, this happiness and amazement do not last long.

* * *

That fateful day on which his life changed, prominent members of society stopped by his garage. The car – a nice fancy car used almost exclusively by the elite – rolled in and Jax already braced himself. The driver stepped out of the car and helped, to Jax's surprise, two ladies out of the car. The driver never talked to Jax, as had become the norm, but the ladies approached him and spoke to him.

What happened that day was such a relief and a welcome change. These ladies were Clarisse and Lily Stein, wife and daughter to renowned scientist Martin Stein. The family was going to attend a conference in Star City and they were going to drive there – Jax assumed one of them hated flying – and Dr. Stein wanted to make sure the car was in excellent condition. Their driver had told him the engine had made a weird sound the last time they drove somewhere.

Jax reassured the ladies he would try his best to make sure their car would be in its best shape. As he worked, he had the pleasure of having a long conversation with the daughter, Lily, who could qualify as a professor herself, with the way she talked about her advanced science studies and other subjects Jax barely understood himself. She did not speak to him as he were a lesser person and for the first time, a white person treated him with respect. When he finished up, he wished the Steins well. They paid him what they owed, along with a 100% tip and they bade him farewell. That evening, he treated himself to his favorite meal at a nearby restaurant and otherwise stayed in, going to bed a happy man.

That all changed in a matter of hours. When Jax woke up, his house was already surrounded by soldiers who would shoot him if he made any suspicious movements. Jax never considered running or hiding away and he complied to the orders the soldiers gave him. He held his tongue, even as they forcefully cuffed him, hurting his wrists and treating him poorly on their way out of the neighborhood.

They did not go to the nearest police station or to one of the nearby camps. Instead, they drove deeper into town, into the business quarter. Only when the car door opened did Jax know that they were taking him to Mercury Labs, the soldiers forcing him to go inside through the back door. They brought him into an elevator that led to the 27th floor – nearly the top floor – where professor doctor Martin Stein was waiting for him.

The scientist wore a lab coat, even in this office, and he glared at Jax with an ice-cold gaze. The soldiers forced Jax to walk towards the desk, but they did not allow him to sit down. Two stood next to him when Dr. Stein rose to his feet.

"Jefferson Jackson." Hatred dripped from just these two words, his glare piercing right into Jax's soul. Jax tried to politely bow his head.

"Dr. Stein, I presume," he said, glancing around uncomfortably. At that moment, he had no idea what would happen, and so he was rightfully anxious. Dr. Stein walked around his desk and towards him until there was only a couple of feet between them. Jax tried his hardest not to look Dr. Stein in the eye, as not to provoke him, but it was harder than he anticipated.

"What was your plan?" Dr. Stein quietly asked, almost too quiet for the microphones attached to the security cameras to pick up.

Jax frowned. "Excuse me?" Dr. Stein took a small step forward, and Jax noticed another emotion in his eyes – besides the fury, there was also sorrow.

"What did you think you were going to achieve when you tampered with the breaks?"

"But I didn't…" Jax began, but he stopped once the meaning of Dr. Stein's words sank in. He shook his head. "No, that can't be. I repaired them—"

"Or you didn't," Stein interrupted him. "You didn't look at them on purpose."

Jax shook his head once, intending not to move too much. "With all due respect, sir," he said in a neutral and non-provocative tone, "but I want my customers to leave with a fully-functioning and fixed car. I do not want anyone to get hurt."

There was a short moment of silence, and neither of them seemed to know what else to say. Jax felt sorry for the old man who had just lost his family. Jax did not know of the circumstances during which they died, or were mortally wounded, but he did figure the man placed the blame on him because of their visit to his garage earlier the day.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Jax eventually said, averting his side, "They seemed nice."

"You don't get to talk about them," Stein sneered at him, "You took my wife and daughter away from me. Now I will take your freedom."

As if on cue, the guards dragged him out of the office. Jax only broke down in tears and fully understood what was going on once the guards placed him in a holding cell. There he waited, unsure about his fate, wondering what Stein might do to him. minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days. They did not take him out of the cell for the first couple of days; they never dimmed the lights or let him see the light of day; meals only came irregularly and Jax learned to eat as much as he could, no matter whether he felt hungry or not, because he would never know when the next meal would be brought to him within ten or twenty hours.

Only after what he guessed must have been his twenty-first day of imprisonment did someone come to collect him. It was a nice-looking scientist who seemed concerned about him, but who probably did not want to go against Dr. Stein's will either. Some guards dragged him to a lab, where the scientists prepared for some testing. She did not seem particularly comfortable and Jax first thought she may be forced to do this as well. Stein may not be the CEO of the company, but he was a big enough influence that he might as well be.

They tested a particular new device on him. Once activated, Jax had lost all train of thoughts and just existed merely for the suggestions of orders. He had been stripped of his free will and made compliant. After they deactivated the device, Jax was in mental distress. Nobody offered him any support afterward – they never had support – he was simply pushed back into his cell and left to deal with the problem himself, his jailer happy with the results of the test.

That was one of the milder experiments they performed on him, but it was morally still unethical. I will not list any other experiments; I have no footage because they keep them safely under wraps, and I do not wish to give it any attention either. This was the only experiment that we know of that certainly happened.

This cycle of imprisonment and final testing of experimental treatments or devices continued well into his life and even until after the Fall of the New Reich. And one day, someone from the inside of Mercury Labs sued Dr. Stein for his actions towards Jax, dragging him in front of the court. It was not the scientist he often saw that accompanied him or anyone else whom Jax had been forced to work with, but she was concerned enough and raised enough alarms about the situation to free him from his precarious situation. The judge eventually ruled in her favor and he sent Dr. Stein to prison – not a camp! – for his human right crimes and experimenting in an unsafe environment on a person. Stein's defense, which relied firmly on racism, did not work as he had planned and his lawyer never defended another case when the news came out that all accusations were not only true but much worse than they first had seemed.

It was a beautiful moment when Jax reunited with his mother after years of solitary confinement, though it did hurt. A bright young man who had had such a beautiful future ahead of him was beaten and worn down for the longest time, and then to see him be so relieved when he finally walked on the streets again and breathe fresh air and be intimate with another human being again.

* * *

It must not have been easy to testify and tell this story again. My deepest gratitude goes to Jefferson Jackson, who was willing to share his side of this story with me. His story may not have been one of defiance of any kind, we cannot afford to forget the 'little guy' can make it big and that the inherent racism that lies at the basis of his downfall cannot and should not be tolerated. If he had not been a person of color, he would not have had to suffer the fate he had suffered, which is unacceptable to me now.

Those who know me might think me a hypocrite because until recently I would have wholeheartedly agreed with Dr. Stein and thought that his actions were more than justified. However, unlike Dr. Stein, I learned from my mistakes; an especially remarkable man helped me realize I could change in a way nobody else could.

But this is not about me. This is about men and women like Jax, who got the short end of the stick by being part of a minority, and because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Many more like him are locked up in prisons or camps, and we should identify them and give them back the freedom they deserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologize for the characterization of the Martin Stein of Earth-X. If you would like to know why, I left a comment under the story explaining this.


	10. Director

Lyla Michaels is one of the biggest names within A.R.G.U.S. Even after the merger with the D.E.O. she stayed a prominent member of the organization. She is an expert combatant and markswoman and she can handle anything thrown at her. As the head of A.R.G.U.S., she had a lot of responsibilities and learned many skills, making her a force to be reckoned with. She is everything someone could aspire to be. Though not many knew exactly what the organization did – and, subsequently, Lyla Michaels –, they knew it must be important. Her performance drew in a lot of new recruits, as she was one of the most famous members of the organization.

Whereas the D.E.O. focused primarily on aliens, A.R.G.U.S. had always been a bigger organization by having to take care of everything not-alien related, especially when their main task became to take down any rebels and vigilantes before the public knew about them. Later, when the Freedom Fighters became more prominent in the streets and in the public's mind, A.R.G.U.S. stepped a bit out of the shadows and became the main organization tracking them down so that the New Reichsmen could kill them. Still, Director Michaels never let that one terrorist group distract her from taking down the smaller rebels as well.

However, there is more to Lyla Michaels than first meets the eye. Much like Alex Danvers years prior, she was keeping a small secret that could have big consequences. She also was smart enough to keep it to herself and not involve anyone else, not even her husband. This is her story. 

* * *

This particular story and the events leading up to her developing her secret are intrinsically tied to one man. Without him, she would have never had her moment of enlightenment. Without him, there would be no secret to keep. Because there already is an extensive amount of resources concerning Lyla Michaels as a person outside of this context, I will not be going over that information. They go over her life more eloquently and more clearly than I ever will.

Lyla Michaels met John Diggle after returning to America with his fellow soldiers. She had invited some of them over to the A.R.G.U.S. headquarters in the hopes of possibly recruiting some of those men into her own ranks. The men would be able to continue their work on the New Reich mainland, not needing to go overseas anymore. It was also good publicity – there never is such a thing as 'too much good publicity'.

John Diggle caught her eye immediately. When she was talking to him, their conversation was civil and respectful. They came to agree on most issues she discussed with him and when either one did not agree with the point of view of the other, they respectfully disagreed.

It was a one-time meeting, but John had left such a remarkable impression that she remembered him long after that day. However, fate decided that three months after their initial meeting, they saw each other on the streets. She had taken the day off and so had he. Their second meeting was purely coincidental and without any formal implications, they talked about much more than was possible the last time. She ended up buying him a coffee and they exchanged phone numbers before parting once again.

Lyla Michaels knew she had fallen for the soldier. After their third date, it became clear the soldier had fallen for her, too. He asked her to come to live with him and after six months of living together, they decided to get married. They did not see the purpose of waiting any longer. Why would they? They were happy and in love and got along extremely well – it would be strange not to be married. Their wedding date would coincide with the day Lyla first met John the year prior.

Lyla decided not to take John's name. Many wondered why that wasn't an option for her: the Diggle name had become kind of prestigious, with both sons – one of whom she married – as well as their father and grandfather being war veterans. The Michaels name had no prestige tied to it. Lyla told those who had that question that she could make her own decisions, that John was okay with it and that prestige in name recognition did not matter. She did not care about prestige or elitism in the current system, anyway. She was only concerned about being there for John and being a good partner.

Eight months later, the news broke that Lyla would be taking a temporary step back from her position as a director. The journalists soon discovered Mrs. Michaels was pregnant, which justified her break. She did stay at the office to oversee everything and take a backseat, but not to stay at home. Some rogue Freedom Fighters who saw her as an enemy at a time decided this was the perfect time to strike. Their General did not authorize their actions, which were merely reckless actions of three youths who wanted to impress him by taking out this enemy. They did not keep in mind the obvious consequences, such as swaying the public's opinion away from the Freedom Fighters by killing the A.R.G.U.S. director, and that they would not be safe from the New Reich that would most likely retaliate.

The evening did not go as the three youths – two boys and a girl – thought it would go. They broke into the Diggle-Michaels house around noon, triggering the silent alarm. Lyla immediately left for her house and quickly subdued the teenagers, despite her being in the sixth month into her pregnancy. She shot one of the boys in the shoulder, after which the other two surrendered. She had planned to keep them at gunshot until the police arrived, but she lowered her gun when she noticed their young faces. She allowed the girl to help her friend while the second boy told her why they were doing this. for the first time, Lyla was exposed to the world she helped create – the three all had family members who were, in their opinion, previously wrongly murdered by A.R.G.U.S.

The police came and took the youths away. They seemed rather careless about the boy's wounds and Lyla had to ask them to give him medical attention before the police considered helping the kid to stay alive. At that moment, her respect towards the police decreased significantly and when the city – and consequently, the Reich – did not see any reason to reprimand the officers for their behavior, she lost faith in the city as well. This provided the groundwork for big change within her mindset later on.

She may have had this realization, but she had been smart enough not to voice her concerns. It was a kind of comment that would get her needlessly investigated and the city needed to spend their resources elsewhere. She also didn't want John, now an A.R.G.U.S. agent, to hear how critical she spoke about their own security system, their police forces. He'd agree with them and not with her; those kids broke into the house with ill intent, they should have known better. Those had been his exact words when she expressed doubt over whether it was okay to shoot the boy. That one line was enough to know to keep her critical thinking to herself; she could already see him betraying her in the future – 'for the good of the Reich' – and that was something she wanted to avoid. It was better to continue her work, even with a critical mindset, and to banish those thoughts to the back of her mind. 

* * *

When the little boy was born, her world had changed for the better. She could now add "mother" to the long list of accomplishments and she loved him dearly. John was there for the birth of his son and when Lyla first held him for that brief moment, she knew she could not go back to the person she was before.

"What's his name?" the midwife asked them.

"John," Lyla's husband said. They had decided this beforehand. John Diggle, Jr., son of the director of A.R.G.U.S. and a third-generation veteran. He could already see the future of his child: he would go to school to the prestigious Star City Academy. He would learn how to be a proper soldier with his weapon of choice, or he would less likely go down a more academic road and become a scientist. He would meet children of other prominent members of society and he would be exclusively conversing with them. John Jr. himself would become such a prominent member of society, serving as a soldier or – if he was lucky – a New Reichsman. He would meet a nice woman to marry and have children with a continue the veteran bloodline and elitism ingrained in his mind.

That was where Mrs. Michaels drew the line. Like many elite families, John talked about the future of his child as if it was set. The Queen and Merlyn families, the Palmer family, and many others had spoken like that about their children, who were now adults in their own right and who had no idea there was another way of thinking than "them versus us", other than they were better than the common folk. They were the elite. It was a dangerous mindset that has been prevalent even before the birth of Lyla's son, but one she had not specifically seen or paid attention to until that moment. It put enormous pressure on the child to perform well and to 'be better', to impress the parents that feigned not to be impressed so the child can push harder and work harder.

This was the push Lyla needed to start thinking critically about her world. On every street corner, she noticed something – an action someone made, a poster on the wall, anything – that she had systematically ignored throughout her life. It slowly came back, over time, and as she watched her son grow up, the critical mindset returned and Lyla made it her own. That was the small secret: she fundamentally came to disagree with everything she once so proudly fought for because of her son's birth and it was messing with her head. Lyla hated the confusing and contradicting messages her brain gave her.

There came a decided winner: Lyla Michaels was no longer a loyal director. She saw the evil inherently built in the Führer's reign and she knew the consequences of her speaking out against it. And still, she struggled to come to terms with this change in mentality.

That was why the divorce was so painful. She still loved John – she truly did – but she hated to keep secrets from him, both classified and personal ones. She also needed the space to figure out who and what she wanted to be, and what she was going to do next. True, it might be easier with John by her side, but she did not want to drag him along as she ran through the dark to try and find the light, the confirmation that what she was feeling was alright, the comfort of feeling good about those critical thoughts.

John was a stubborn man. He would not easily be persuaded into believing their Führer was a cruel man and that their General was a selfish woman. He would not accept a possible regime change as easily as Lyla would. There was a chance he wouldn't accept her divergent thoughts. Maybe he'd turn her in, maybe he'd stay. But this situation was too much for to handle alongside her trying to figure out what she wanted her place in the world to be.

The divorce had devastated him, but he decided to go through with it for his wife's mental health. He quit his job and became a private security guard. Lyla continued her work at A.R.G.U.S. and hoped every day to find the answer she was looking for. Their son stayed with his father and mother, alternating between weeks, but Lyla and John did not communicate with each other for a long time. 

* * *

After the fall of the New Reich, Lyla and John found each other again. The circumstances are unknown, but neither one blamed the other for what had happened between them. They started talking again. John expressed he wasn't one hundred percent happy with his country's new leaders, but he wasn't going to do something radical to change it. Lyla had helped to form this government, in her own way, and she did not apologize for it towards him. she had discovered who she was going to be and now led A.R.G.U.S. in a more just way. At the end of the day, they left on amicable turns, both a little wiser and more knowledgeable about the other side of the argument.

Later, they somehow found their way back to one another. They still held their own distinct beliefs, but they made it work. Neither forced their son to adhere to their way of thinking – John Jr. was going to figure out for himself what he thought was right, like his mother before him, with only guidance from his parents and no doctrine.

Though it may seem impossible, different beliefs can coexist peacefully, as Mrs. Michaels and Mr. Diggle have demonstrated. They can make it work, and so can everyone in this new country one day. Just not right this day.


	11. Guardian

So far, I have twice described the lives of a black man and how things changed for the worse. However, it does not always go like this for a person of color; the previous two men have had the worst of luck imaginable, but it can be different.

Not all people belonging to a minority just lower their heads and go about their daily lives with caution and care. Some of them actively seek out violence and are not afraid to speak their minds. Others are crazy enough to don a mask and a costume, to call themselves a vigilante with a cool codename and take to the streets. They actively paint a bullseye on their back, provide target practice for cops and New Reich soldiers and generally thwart the day-to-day business of the New Reich.

There was one man in particular who pestered the Reich like this. he was a good man, a protector of the weak and, in his last moments, he stood up for them even as he lay down. The Führer stood over him, his bow drawn back to fire those last arrows. Many know him as James, but this is the story of how he came to be the Guardian.

* * *

James Olsen, as he was known as, had a relatively good childhood. His father was an outspoken person and vocal opponent of the New Reich. He never said it into anyone's face who didn't need to know, but inside his house, he talked loudly about his distaste towards the Reich.

Little Jimmy Olsen picked up all those ideas from his father. He was a good kid and anyone who knew him would say he was a nice person. But even at that age, if someone dared to cross him or tried to push an opinion onto him, he always said or did something about it. Unlike his father, he never got the lesson to keep the divergent opinions to himself. Hardly anyone could blame him – he was a ten-year-old who didn't know better and thought it was okay to loudly proclaim the Reich was the worst. The problem was that his father encouraged him to have these thoughts instead of complying to the oppressive regime. The message to be careful with those thoughts and opinions was never made clear.

Things changed for the worse as he grew older and became a teenager. Their family wasn't that wealthy, to begin with. When his mother fell ill, they did not have the money to both survive and heal their mother. Medicine was expensive and his mother preferred to die than to see her son starve to buy her what she needed. She passed quickly, and Jimmy and his father were glad the illness hadn't been transmitted to them.

Not much later, his father was taken away from him as well. People had heard Jimmy say those things you shouldn't say out loud and reported him. They did not send him to a prison camp, for the sole reason that people knew (through Jimmy) that his father didn't exactly punish him for saying and thinking these things. He was still a teenager – his thoughts were still malleable. They took away his father and attempted to condition Jimmy into adopting a more acceptable opinion.

Jimmy never went to school again. He ran and focused on staying alive. As a fourteen-year-old, this wasn't very easy. Especially not because of the everyday racism that had only grown because of his status as a homeless and his skin color. During one of his journeys downtown, he found a friend, Gareth, who was living off of the street, too. He brought Jimmy to a big group of people from all walks of life who were also trying to survive. They accepted Jimmy into the group, and from then on, he stopped using the nickname 'Jimmy'. It was the end of an era, so it felt appropriate.

His new family provided for him and he provided for them. They were scavengers who didn't have a lot of money and who made their home in the abandoned hangar at the edge of the city. Life went by from day to day and year to year. For the longest time, James could not tell whether it was Tuesday or Thursday without seeing it in a newspaper. They didn't have a calendar to mark the passing of the days; they only had one clock that was sort of correct, maybe off by an hour at most.

James and the kid who brought him in, Gareth, grew up with him. They were like brothers. Many times, they had bailed each other out of the police station. Whenever they went out on the streets, they knew they had each other's back. While James was the brute force, Gareth was smaller and more nimble than James could ever be. One day, James and Gareth went deep into the city. Gareth was rather reckless and decided to do something bold. James initially cheered him on but later changed his mind about it. Still, he wasn't able to stop his friend when an idea popped up in his head.

The cops were quick and ruthless. As soon as they saw Gareth go straight for the Queen property with weapons, they did not hesitate and shot him dead. This was before Oliver Queen became the Führer, but the family was already famous enough for Gareth to try to break in there. It had turned into a suicide mission and after witnessing his death from a hiding spot, James turned and ran.

He only returned home to tell the others about Gareth's fate. James then left for the last time and permanently moved into the city as one of the resident homeless people. Without Gareth, it did not feel right to stay there anymore.

While in the city, James concluded that today's society contributed to the poverty of minorities and lower class people. Born into poverty meant you could not afford to be more wealthy, and the already wealthy grew more wealthy. Today's society incriminated anyone who wanted to rise above the class they had been so unluckily born into and James wanted to do something about it.

Of course, it would be difficult for someone like him to eradicate poverty. So he did the next best thing: protect the vulnerable and poorest layer of society from police brutality and other instances of authorities abusing their powers.

* * *

James Olsen became the Guardian overnight. He raided an old New Reich facility to find some body armor to protect himself – he wasn't going to just throw himself into a fight without protection – and even found a nice shield he could use. With some spray-paint he found in the facility as well, he painted an old design of the American flag on the shield. Not many people would know the flag or what it used to stand for, but James knew. He remembered this from his father's stories about an America that was no New Reich, about an America that stood for everything this Reich was not.

With his costume ready, James was ready to take to the streets as the Guardian. However, his vigilante career started in a rough way. That is, he did not really have anything to do at all. He did not know where the cops were going to be or on which street corner he could find crime, and he didn't just want to pick fights with the cops. It would only prove the point that vigilantes were dangerous rebels, however hypocritical that may sound coming from an organization that literally wanted the public to cheer on the 'approved vigilante squad', a.k.a. the New Reichsmen. Then again, it is the New Reich and they encouraged their people not to overthink things.

So, for a long time, James had no work as a vigilante at all. He did look for trouble but more often than not, trouble found him. It presented itself as a couple of cops going into the alley and figuring the man in the crazy costume must be a vigilante and therefore must be stopped, though they were never certain who he was.

"I'm the Guardian," he told them, though he wasn't exactly guarding anyone. Surprisingly enough, he always managed to defeat them. this was a result of the cops being ill-equipped to deal with vigilantes in person – that was the job of A.R.G.U.S. and the New Reichsmen – so he still managed to win whenever he found himself in a fight with them.

The police decided to keep a file on this mysterious Guardian that had popped up out of nowhere. It just so happened that when the police had a file on a vigilante, the Freedom Fighters marked this vigilante as a person of interest. Rebels aren't just found in the field. There were second and even third-generation rebels in the base and very few people decided to join them without having any previous ties to any rebels whatsoever. The persons of interest were a good source of recruitment. They did not need to stick around the base; they could still operate independently from the Freedom Fighters, but when the General asked for help, they were supposed to answer that call.

Late one evening, James was wearing his suit and hanging around an alley where he'd been before. He was convinced something was going to happen there that night – something that would prove his worth as a vigilante without having to confront law enforcement.

"Guardian." James turned around, his shield up and his body in a defensive stance. He hadn't been taken by surprise before then and expected a hail of bullets to fly over him.

But there were no bullets. James slowly lowered his shield so he could see who was calling his name. It was not the cops or even a group of people. It was a young man with stubble and a harsh look in his eyes. Everything about his appearance screamed military and the Guardian did not take this knowledge for granted. This confrontation could still go south.

"Who the hell are you?" James asked the man.

"The general," he responded. The Guardian shook his head once.

"I'm pretty sure she's an alien."

"Not that one," the man said and he took a couple of steps closer towards the vigilante. "I've come to strike a deal. One-time offer."

"And what's that?" The Guardian eyed the man – this 'general' – suspiciously. He did not lower his shield.

"We can train you," the general said. "Make you better, give you better equipment."

"And the catch?"

"You come work for us." The man may have paused for dramatic tension, but one can never know for sure. "The Freedom Fighters."

Just like that, James' worries concerning this mystery general melted like snow in the sun. That was all he had needed to say in the first place if he'd wanted to convince James.

"Deal."

James spent the next few months at the Freedom Fighters base and trained to be a better fighter. He got to know many members that survived long enough, such as Leonard Snart and Ray Terrill. He trained with them, as a sort of substitute for training against the New Reichsmen. When he had become a proficient fighter, he did not return to his favorite alleys. He stayed with them and helped them out, growing closer to these people than he ever imagined possible. He found a caring family again, all united by the one cause of taking down the New Reich's regime. He was happy to help and slowly defeated the New Reich alongside his friends, his partners in crime, whenever he had the chance.

* * *

James' last mission was in late 2017. The Freedom Fighters had nearly finished a project that would make it easier to bring refugees to the different Earths they knew existed, and they could go ask for help on the other Earths as well if those heroes weren't too busy. They had a lot of soldiers on the ground, all previously vigilantes or Freedom Fighters-related rebels, present to guard the hangar. The Guardian was there as well.

The Führer came to take care of this situation. His rigorous training and his inability to hold back even the slightest bit resulted in a one-sided massacre. Nobody could get a hit on him while the Dark Arrow killed everyone who guarded the hangar. The Guardian was the last man standing, bravely fighting Mr. Queen, but he ultimately failed to make it back alive. He could not prevent the inter-dimensional portal to be used by the New Reich for nefarious purposes.

Many people I know believe minorities rarely stand up for themselves. It's ingrained in their being through violence that standing up for themselves results in torture and death. I would like to present those people this particular tale of an unusual vigilante, a true hero of the people. James Olsen was so much more than a homeless guy. He was a guardian who saved many lives and paid the ultimate price.


	12. Justice prevails

When Lily Stein awoke from her coma, her father sat by her bedside. She woke up, confused about her environment. Hadn't she been sitting in the car? They had been driving home in horrendous weather. Somehow, she had ended up in a hospital bed. She panicked and almost hyperventilated, the memories of that evening and the crash flooding her mind, hitting her like a tsunami.

"It's alright," Dr. Stein said. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're here, you're safe."

Lily calmed down, as far as that was possible for the situation. She turned her head to the other side, expecting to see her mother there. Clarissa Stein was not present. She had been resting in her grave for three months now.

Her father broke the sad news and Lily broke down in tears. Her mother was gone; she couldn't even say goodbye. Dr. Stein leaned in to give her a hug and comfort her during these hard times. They talked about what had happened and Dr. Stein said something he really should not have said.

"Don't worry, darling," Dr. Stein told her, "the culprit will be sufficiently punished."

Lily furrowed her brow. "What do you mean."

The mechanic will get his due. I'll make sure of that."

Lily slowly shook her head, flabbergasted, and she leaned back against the pillows, piled up to support her sitting upright. "It wasn't him."

She remembered it clearly. Their driver would have been home early if it weren't for the check-up of the car. He had expressed his dismay about time with his family being stolen away from him. He only dared to speak because Dr. Stein wasn't with them. When they finally returned home after the visit to the garage – which had taken longer than the driver liked – it had started to pour. The driver wanted to be home so badly that he had speeded. Clarissa noticed and told him to slow down. Initially, he had listened to her, but he soon speeded again. On a particularly slippery road, he had lost his grip due to the excessive speed and the car slipped. It crashed into the side of a building. The driver miraculously only suffered a broken rib and a bruised leg. The Steins were off far worse. Lily had sustained brain damage and had fallen into a coma. Clarissa Stein passed away on the way to the hospital.

The driver testified at the police station. To save himself, he claimed Jax had worked on the brakes and 'fixed' them, but the driver thought the mechanic had tampered with them. He would have braked properly if it weren't for the tinkering and the sabotage of the malicious black-skinned mechanic. Dr. Stein learned of this and persuaded the cops not to arrest him. Instead, he brought Jax to his lab and began serving as Dr. Stein's unofficial lab rat.

Lily was horrified to learn what her father had been doing and she was disgusted by the proud and vengeful tone in his voice. She could not believe that Jax should be blamed for something because it was the easy thing to do and she barely cared about the fact that she missed out on three months of her life.

However, she knew she would not be able to talk her father out of this crazy plan. from birth, he had tried to instill into her brain that she deserved this great life they were leading; she was a Stein, for goodness' sake, a descendant from Germans! Fair-skinned and blue-eyed and with great name recognition, she was told she would get everything she ever wanted and that she deserved it, that she should be unapologetic for her behavior.

And yet, her mother managed to keep her humble and, well, kept her from acting like a true Stein. She took more after her mother than her father would like. He did kind of blame his wife for telling Lily time and time again that minorities didn't deserve to be discriminated against and that they deserved the same rights as whites.

Lily told Dr. Stein she wanted to be alone, and he obeyed and left the room. Each time he came to visit her during her stay in the hospital, their conversations were short and cold. Lily refused to smile or feel good around her father unless he promised to release Jax. He could not even lie to her to get some affection, and he no longer stayed by her bedside for an hour, but merely five minutes.

As soon as Lily was allowed to leave the hospital, she cut ties with her father. No matter what he tried, she did not want to talk to him. As far as she was concerned, he might as well have been dead.

* * *

She visited the company her father worked for once. She came in completely unannounced and did something her father would be proud of; she used her name and status to get access to areas she shouldn't have access to. Excuse me, do you know who I am? I demand to see the security tapes immediately. The poor employees must have had a big scare – "my god, there's two of them" – but they pulled up the security tapes she wanted to see. Lily took a quick picture and left before anyone could alert Dr. Stein that his daughter had asked to see the security tapes and took a picture of some footage showing Jax's imprisoned life.

She brought this to her first lawyer, presenting her case to him. However, he was not willing to help her out. Pictures, however authentic they may be, could be doctored. It was her against Mercury Labs and her testimony would be drowned out by the hundreds of employees the defense could call to the stand – employees who would probably confirm there was no prisoner held inside the facility.

Lily sought out more lawyers, but they all told her the same things. She always left feeling disappointed in the system, but with hope. She eventually decided it was worth the wait. The perfect moment would present itself eventually. It will come, she told herself. Her father would be brought to justice for what he was doing to Jax.

* * *

Lily's patience paid off. After the Fall of the New Reich, she contacted a brilliant lawyer who was willing to defend her case. She dragged her father to court at last, to a judge was not afraid of the wrath of Dr. Stein and who only cared about fair trials and punishment. He previously refused to sentence a Latina to a prison camp because, like Jax, she had been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Dr. Stein and his lawyer relied heavily on racism and the Stein reputation. Yet, that defense did not defend Dr. Stein at all; it only further proved Stein was more than capable of holding a black boy captive because he happened to have fixed the car on the day of an otherwise unrelated accident. Lily's lawyer had gathered enough information in the meantime to prove that Stein had indeed been keeping Jax prisoner. This included a surprising testimony of Stein's long-time friend and protégée Dr. Caitlin Snow, who condemns Dr. Stein and strongly disagrees with his actions.

The judge ruled in Lily's favor. He declared Dr. Stein guilty of violating human rights and illegal experimentations. Lily had won and the case was reported in the media all over the country.

Dr. Stein went to prison, where he stayed until his death. Lily was allowed to join the police as they went to Mercury Labs to free Jax. He looked different than the first time they'd seen each other. He'd become dangerously thin and his body was covered with scars in different shapes and sizes. There once would've been a smile on his face, but that had been beaten out of him a long time ago. His eyes were empty and seemed lifeless. The most telling was that, when the door opened for the final time, Jax did not react anymore. He just waited for them to take him away with his head bowed down.

"Jax." The prisoner lifted his head, if only out of curiosity – the guards never spoke a word to him – and his eyes widened in confusion when he saw Lily. "You're free."

It took him a while to process the meaning of those specific words. He glanced at the door leading to the labs as they passed it and walked to the elevator. Only when he saw the lobby and, through the glass, the outside world again did it truly sink in. He was free.

Standing outside was a woman he hadn't seen in a long time: his mother. He couldn't help himself and the tears streamed down his face. It only grew worse when he finally held his mother in his arms again. They did not let go for at least ten minutes. They cried on each other's shoulders, not minding or even noticing the press standing around them, shooting footage and pictures of the reunion. When all was said and done and Jax was ready to go home, both he and his mother turned to Lily and extensively thanked her.

To this day, she is still a good friend of the Jackson family. She also has become a prominent advocate against race-based discrimination and she used the Stein name recognition to call for a more tolerant society.

Vigilantes in this part don't necessarily need to be heroes who punch bad guys in the face. as previously established, they can be everyday people fighting the injustices without any violence. Lily Stein saved a life at the cost of her father's freedom, a price she's paid willingly and gladly. She more than deserves this entry.


	13. Wild Dog

It is not unusual that the New Reich makes mistakes. They will never openly admit it, but they do make them. These mistakes originate from arrogance and the knowledge that nobody will point them out and call the New Reich out for it, because – as previously stated – the Reich does not make mistakes.

Every so often, one of those mistakes has catastrophic results for some outstanding members of society. Often they will apologize privately, but they will also deny that anything bad actually happened in public, directly or indirectly. This dual approach may drive the most loyal and noble men to do what the New Reich considered to be bad things. This almost always resulted in outbursts of violence and defiance, after which the person was subdued and sent away.

There is one man, however, who didn't let his vengeance blind him so much as to blatantly walk into a trap or do reckless things, such as storming the Führer's home. (That happened. Someone in the past tried it and died.) He actually thought things through and decided that reckless was wrong. And this vigilante also took a different approach than the others. Instead of targeting the police forces and possibly cleaning up the streets in the process, this man solely targeted the military. Hit them where it hurts, he would say. Take out their special forces and immobilize them. force them on their knees.

The "Wild Dog" goes down in history as a rogue vigilante and a legend. In this chapter, you will learn how he came to be this vigilante.

* * *

Rene Ramirez was a good man. He had a good life, found love with a nice woman named Laura and they had a daughter who they called Zoe. After high school, he enrolled in the military and was sent on a mission twice. Once to patrol some dissident regions down in South America and to keep the peace, and once to Australia, in one of the last attempts to capture and conquer the big island as a new territory for the New Reich.

He returned home as a war veteran, to a proud wife and a proud little girl who looked up to her father. Seeing them again was such a great change he decided to settle down and to try to find a job close to home – a job that didn't include him potentially dying far away from home. He became an office worker and spend more time with his family than he previously could. The job did not pay much, but Laura also had a steady job and together, they made enough to provide for their little girl and so they stayed in the category of "middle class". They weren't doing as well as some better-off families, but at least they weren't poor.

Unfortunately, this story also has a sad backstory. The happy Rene would never have thought he would ever go up against the government he once so vehemently defended and fought for. If this man had known what he would do in the future, he wouldn't have believed it.

The New Reich had received intel about a possible domestic terrorist who was going to attack a public building, possibly with a bomb. The target was a woman with a loving husband and a daughter named Zoe. It was not Laura Ramirez, but I won't blame you for thinking that it was her based off of that description. The police forces also believed that it was Laura Ramirez (their intel did not include a last name) and wrongly targeted her.

They busted down the door of the house. Laura, Rene, and Zoe were at home when it happened. As soon as they saw Laura, they fatally shot her. Rene was in the same room when this happened – Zoe luckily didn't witness it. Rene told them their daughter was upstairs and he obliged with every command they gave him, even while he mourned and grieved the death of his wife and even though he did not behave very nicely towards them. He swore and yelled and tried to spit in their face. This led to his eventual arrest.

Two weeks later, he was released into the public again after he proved Laura wasn't the criminal they wanted and that he was not an accomplice to her wicked actions. Finally, he could properly mourn the death of his wife and visit her grave – he'd been buried while he was in custody. The New Reich did apologize, but never made any solid promises towards him nor did they give him compensation for her death.

Another blow to his trust and blind loyalty to the New Reich came only hours later. He came home to find he was the only one there. Some people from child services had taken away his daughter and put her in foster care. The couple she had been placed with had gotten a negative image of him – mostly because of what the propaganda television news had told them – and refused to give Zoe back to him. child services were no help either, and they supported the foster parents. Worst of all, he wasn't even allowed to go anywhere near his daughter because she was too traumatized and – so the couple told him – she didn't want to see him. That was the last straw. His whole world had already crashed down and later, he would say that him not being allowed to see his daughter single-handedly took away any sympathy he had left for the New Reich. What government would allow this to happen to an innocent man, to such a loyal soldier?

He wasn't the loyal soldier anymore. He did continue to play the part so as not to be targeted by the police or special forces. If there was anything he had learned over the years was that the best way to do things you wanted to do, was to convince everyone you still supported the New Reich – they would never pin you as a suspect that way.

So Rene donned the hockey mask and constructed some plans to hit the military. Some were straight up heists while others were more pure suburban terror. He broke into the houses of wives of soldiers on mission and scared the hell out of them, always making sure not to show his face. With the bombs he stole, he targeted weapon factories and even some training facilities. Nobody could ever get a clear shot of his face and the media only ever showed him in the hockey mask. People assumed he was just a guy who got a kick out of terrorizing women and children. They did not take him seriously – they were confused to hear that same man had attacked military facilities, veterans and soldiers in training, disrupting their lives as well as weapon production.

Rene, or "Wild Dog" as the media dubbed him, had become a prominent figure in the news. They did not shy away from calling him a domestic terrorist. Rene himself was happy with the confusion and mystery surrounding the character of Wild Dog; unpredictable and bold in a bad way. Better yet, nobody had connected the dots between him and Wild Dog, allowing him to continue his normal life as if nothing had happened. He continued to try to get visiting rights for his daughter, but the New Reich was dead set on keeping them apart. He would have to muster a bit more patience.

Everything went wrong after nine months. He had gotten hurt when he hijacked a truck with guns and other war supplies and had to break off the theft attempt. Assuming he was safe, he hid in an alleyway. A concerned citizen had spotted him and called the police. They easily arrested him and brought him to the police station.

That evening, Wild Dog died and Rene Ramirez was stripped from his freedom.

* * *

Rene was cuffed to the desk in the interrogation room of the police station. They had left him in there for at least thirty minutes without anyone checking up on him. You'd think he would be able to break out, but that is where you – and Rene at that moment – are wrong. He tried to escape but didn't succeed. They had taken his armor away from him, leaving him in his shirt and pants; they confiscated the hockey mask and all of the weapons he had on him when he was arrested. Every other weapon at home would no doubt be confiscated, too.

A middle-aged woman, only a few years older than Rene, walked into the interrogation room. she looked impeccable in her pantsuit. As soon as she walked into the room, the brunette looked at the prisoner and shook her head, folding her arms.

Rene looked at her with indifference. He knew he had made her job significantly harder the last few months, but he hadn't cared. They had known each other – they had joined the military training academy around the same time, but she dropped out to become a police officer instead. He felt no sympathy for the woman who stood before him. Dinah Drake, sergeant of the Star City police department. What an honor it must be for her to be interrogating the Wild Dog instead of any other officer inside the building.

"What the hell happened to you, Rene?" She asked him. Rene shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing." It was true.  _Nothing_  had happened to him. At least, nothing that had led to him taking up his vigilante mantle. If anything, something happened to the people closest to him and he found a productive way to pick up the pieces. "They killed my wife and took my daughter away from me."

"So you decide to become a vigilante?" Dinah asked. She unfolded her arms and walked closer to him, sitting down in the chair on the other side of the desk. She clasped her hands together and stared at Rene with a neutral expression on her face.

Rene leaned back in his chair. "I'm not answering that without a lawyer."

He knew he wasn't going to get a lawyer assigned to him. They were not going to try him. The only ones who had the luxury of being tried were dissident metahumans, low-life criminals, or those who would generate great television. Big name criminals, such as Rene, were sent to prison camps almost immediately after their capture. There wasn't a police van available to bring him away at the moment, so that is why he was cooped up in the police station.

Dinah shifted in her seat. "I've been following you. Quite an impressive record." Rene looked away. if she had expected an answer, he was not going to give it to her. "I can understand targeting facilities, but random homes?"

"They're not random," he said. "and I never hurt anyone." His tone suggested defensiveness. He never did hurt the housewives he came across. He only ever did it to scare their husbands on mission, to worry them and to keep their heads out of the game. A soldier doesn't work properly when their thoughts are somewhere else.

"But you did a lot of damage," Dinah pointed out. Rene shrugged again as if to say he didn't care. He assumed she was referring to the warehouses and materials and weapons he destroyed. The more of those things were gone, the better. If she referred to the people he had scared… he never laid a finger on them. He just had shown up, scared them and left when he was certain he was spotted by the housewife.

Dinah stood up, keeping her hand palms placed on the table. "I can't keep you out of there forever," she told him. "You're going to prison for what you've done."

The tone she used did not match the words coming out of her mouth. She spoke softly and in a humane way – the police sergeant would have been expected to use a harsh tone and calling him out for every little mistake he's made. It made her look more sympathetic. After all, Dinah still had considered Rene as her friend until she found out he was hiding behind the Wild Dog mask. Her disappointment was genuine and she wished he had made better life choices.

"And you?" Rene leaned forward in his chair again, his arms resting on the desk. "What will happen to you?"

"I stay here," Dinah answered, "and I do my job."

Rene nodded. "Good luck, Dinah."

The sergeant left the room. Ten minutes later, the police van arrived and brought him to one of the prison camps.

Their conversation would have been no problem. Nobody could have found out the police sergeant was sort of acting like a friend with the domestic terrorist and that he amicably wished her good luck. nobody needed to know Wild Dog knew her on a first-name basis. Unfortunately, there is one little thing neither of them realized: the conversation had been recorded by the newly installed cameras. There never had been any money for them until earlier that month. It may well be that Ms. Drake had forgotten the cameras had been installed, or maybe she assumed they weren't operational yet. She had been sloppy and she paid the price for it. She was fired for having this friendly conversation with the prisoner, but she wasn't arrested for it. however, she was kept under close surveillance to make sure she wouldn't have any other contact with vigilantes or other criminals.

As for Rene, they had brought him to a prison camp. However, on his way to the camp, he had made his great escape. They could never catch him again. He spent his time hiding from the law and hoping they wouldn't catch him.

* * *

Rene lived to see the Fall of the New Reich. He watched gleefully as the leaders died and a new regime rose from the ashes – a more democratic one with a government he could get behind. Yet, in his neighborhood, many people still loved the previous regime and were mourning the death of the New Reich's leaders, or who they would've been had they had the chance to rise up.

Rene tried to monitor the peace in his neighborhood between those who liked the previous regime and those who didn't. It often came to a clash between the two groups and not too many police officers were too happy with going down there to break apart the fights. Someone had to do it and even though he clearly had chosen one side, he still became their prime mediator.

He became a good man in his own right, without the hockey mask. He still carried his guns and people recognized him even without the mask. He even became a good police officer who was paid to keep the peace in his fragile neighborhood. That was such a demanding task he did not need to go to the office or do anything else besides monitoring the peace.

Unfortunately, only two weeks before this manuscript was sent to the press – months after I've written this – reports of Rene Ramirez' death reached me. Some hooligans didn't want to answer to him. Instead of trying to kill the one man whom they had cornered and who did not like the New Reich, they went after Rene. He almost succeeded in escaping, but they found his hiding spot. They killed him and that first man.

It had been my intention to write about a contemporary hero who hadn't perished yet. Mr. Ramirez himself talked to me to construct his story as truthfully as I possibly could. My condolences go to his family and I hope he did not die for nothing.


	14. Brother

Not many families stick together in the New Reich. People move out to different cities with better opportunities or send the children to a school across the country, making them distant and not having a good bond with their parents. Everyone encourages their children to make the best out of life and to grab every opportunity they can get. Once the children leave the house, the parents may feel the emptiness they leave behind – but when those children have spent most of their lives away from said parents, nobody bats an eye when parents and children are disconnected from one another.

The same can be said about sibling relationships. It was not unusual families put their time and money into the success of one sibling (usually the oldest) while only keeping the bare minimum for the other ones. The difference between the educations and opportunities could be small and non-existent to astronomically great.

Let me present a case study: the Ramon family. They had two sons, Dante and Cisco. This family barely belonged to the middle class and were relatively wealthy compared to others of the same ethnic class. Still, they did not have enough money to support an excellent education for both children. The parents would have to gauge which son would be more successful and "more deserving" of the great education – they did not like it, but they would have to make this decision sooner or later.

It became apparent that Dante had a natural affinity for playing the piano while their other son displayed signs of being an intelligent and clever child. The parents had wanted to split the money for the children's education evenly, but after seeing Dante develop musically, they paid for his piano lessons with Cisco's education fund. From a financial point of view, this was a successful investment. Dante became an even better piano player and this gave him entrance to a renowned high school. He later received a scholarship to go to a great university, where he studied music. As an adult, Dante had become a great musician who earned a lot of money. He gave some money back to his parents for believing in him. He kept the rest for himself and used it to build a good life. Dante was successful and happy.

However, from a personal point of view, it meant Cisco's education suffered. He was still a brilliant kid who learned at his own pace, way faster than most of his other classmates and ahead of the school's learning plan. Because of the clear favoritism between the two sons, Dante got a lot more attention than Cisco. There were often small fights between Cisco and Dante, usually about little things Cisco got frustrated with and a young Dante did not know how to cope with because he had been so pampered. At age sixteen, Cisco Ramon ran away. His parents and Dante looked everywhere, but they couldn't find him. They later decided that, if Cisco wasn't going to return, they were going to use all Cisco's career money to give to Dante's. As I already discussed, this had fruitful results.

They had not seen Cisco since he ran away.

* * *

One particular day, Dante felt like he was missing something. It was not a strange feeling – he had felt it before, namely on days when he missed his little brother. From a young age and even nowadays, he believed he was the reason Cisco had run away. Yet, he never had placed the blame on himself, but on his parents. They had given Dante everything while neglecting Cisco and sparing only the bare minimum for him. They had driven Cisco away, and none of it was Dante's fault.

Dante felt the urge to reconnect with his brother. But wishing to find Cisco and reconnect was just a dream. He had no idea where his brother was. Where he lived, what he was doing, if he even was still alive.

No. Cisco was alive. He had to be.

So Cisco had to be alive, and then what? Where would Dante find him? He couldn't just walk down the street, where it crawled with homeless people who did not shy away from – at the very least – intimidating him and stealing his possessions. Somehow, Dante had gotten it into his mind that Cisco could not be a homeless person. His younger brother had to be leading a somewhat decent life. Such a bright young man would definitely have found a great job somewhere, with a high school degree or not. And if he did not want to contact Dante anymore, Dante would not blame or push him.

One evening, this urge to find out where his brother was lead him out on the streets. He left his fiancée in their apartment, telling her he needed to get some fresh air. For an uncertain amount of time, he wandered through the streets. It seemed aimless, but his wanderings brought him to the industrial terrain just outside Central City. He was not afraid, nor did he know why he was going in that direction. Dante just knew it felt right; that was all he needed.

He arrived at a dark hangar where no lights shone and walked inside. The door was unlocked and its knob dusty. Dante had to use the flashlight on his phone to see something, anything inside. With some light, he watched around in the big room. Nothing indicated someone was living in the hangar, and that comforted him.

Dante continued, despite his mind's shouting at him to 'turn around and go home, there's nothing here for you'. His gut feeling had not left or failed him yet. There was something in here that would lead him to Cisco. Whatever 'it' was, was still uncertain.

"Hello?" Dante shouted. His voice echoed in the spacious hangar. "Is anybody there?"

Given the current political climate and the environment, it might not have been a good idea to shout. Maybe someone really was in there. Maybe people with bad intentions (such as those rebels) were in there. Either way, it was too late now, ad if someone was in the hangar, they would know someone was going to find them. What a bad move.

Beyond the light from his phone, some sort of blue light was turned on at the other side of the hangar. Dante lowered his phone to get a clearer look at it, but the light was turned off again before he could figure out what it was. He did not have the time to figure out what the light was from, because some kind of buzzing behind him drew his attention. He turned around while someone threw him to the ground.

Dante pulled up his knees to his stomach to protect his internal organs and covered his face with his arms, balling his hands into fists.

"Please don't kill me!" the musician shouted, closing his eyes. He waited for an impact of fists or bullets or whatever his attacker preferred, hoping he would not have to suffer.

But there came no impact. Instead, the attacker spoke. "Dante."

Dante slowly moved his arms away from his face and relaxed his legs. He tilted his head and looked up at the attacker. He wore a streamlined suit with a lot of black and some streaks of faded red and yellow; a repurposed New Reichsmen uniform. So, a rebel then. What made this man stand out from the generic rebel were the goggles and those gloves he wore. His wavy dark hair fell to his shoulders. There barely was anything for Dante to recognize.

"Who are you? Why do you…" Dante stopped there. Of course they'd know him, he was a famous pianist. Which also excused him from military service, but that's not relevant at this moment. Either way, they would have heard his name somewhere. Then again, only higher class people could afford to go to his concerts, so how did this name remember his name so quickly?

It was ultimately the voice that gave his attacker away. Dante had been too shocked to process that specific sound, but now he his brain worked again, the voice had sounded familiar. His name had been said by a person he knew; a person he hadn't seen in a long time; a person he'd been looking for this night.

"Cisco?" Dante finally sat up and stared at the man who could only be his younger brother.

"Long time no see," Cisco said and he folded his arms. He stared down at his older brother, no emotions discernable on his face.

Dante's mind did a double take after this confirmation and looked at Cisco again. If there was any moment during which he had imagined Cisco's future, this is not what would have crossed his mind: cooped up in an abandoned hangar, surrounded by what Dante could only assume was worthless old tech and wearing a stupidly incriminating suit that would give away his allegiance at a glance.

Normal people did not wear costumes like that. They also did not teleport from one side of the room to another with flashes of blue light and buzzing. That was another mind-blowing revelation.

"You're…" Dante began, "you're a…" He could barely process all the information, so it was only normal Dante had trouble stringing sentences together. It was all too much for him to handle – oh, the information! – that he could not grasp it all in a short span of time.

"Meta-human? Vigilante?" Cisco helpfully finished his sentence.

Dante nodded. He was still a little dazed. "Yeah, how did that happen?"

"The powers came first," Cisco said. That indifferent facial expression turned sour and a grimace appeared on his face. "On the day I left."

Dante was baffled. What a coincidence it happened on the day he decided to leave. "That's incredible!" he exclaimed, and he was painfully aware of the great acoustics of this space. Then he furrowed his brow. "Why didn't you tell mom and dad?" They would have definitely paid more attention to Cisco forward if they knew – he may have even been enrolled in the Star City Academy. It couldn't get more prestigious than that.

"They wouldn't have listened. Why would they? They only cared about you." He pointed an accusatory finger at Dante.

The older brother shook his head. "That's not true."

"Really?" Cisco raised his voice. He unfolded his arms and turned his back to Dante, muttering some things to himself.

Dante finally stood up – the ground was hard and cold and his butt was starting to hurt. His eyes had adjusted to the dark and without the light from his phone, he could see his surroundings more clearly, as well as the resistance's project.

Cisco – maybe with other people – was building something big in here. This hangar must be the perfect storage since it was not currently being used by the New Reich. Otherwise they would have placed guards at the front doors to keep anyone who was too curious outside.

"What is this place?" Dante then asked, genuinely curious.

"That's classified," Cisco answered immediately. Not the answer Dante was looking for, but it was enough to make Dante think about the situation. Classified, by whom?

Then the truth finally dawned on Dante – all these impressions really had slowed down his mind. The crazy costume, the secret location, the whatever-it-was they were building out of sight from the government. For one second, he was afraid of his younger brother and the power at his fingertips, but that soon went away. This was Cisco, his little brother. He wasn't going to hurt Dante.

Was he?

"Y-You're with them," Dante stammered. "The rebels."

Cisco sharply turned to face his brother. There was a disapproving look on Cisco's face and Dante distractedly took a step back, the underlying fear surging within him with Cisco stared at him through his goggles.

"We're not rebels," Cisco explained. "We're the Freedom Fighters."

"What a name." Really? Couldn't they have come up with something better than that? Dante did correct himself afterward – these people fought the government. He shouldn't be worried about the name they chose to go by, but their actions.

"I didn't come up with that!" Cisco said, throwing up his hands defensively.

"Clearly." If Cisco had the option to come up with the name, that alliteration abomination would not have been it.

Silence fell for a few moments, and then Dante spoke up again. "So, fighting for freedom. While we're already free."

"Are we?" There was nothing condescending about Cisco's tone, but Dante knew Cisco believed he had every right to speak like that. But Cisco shook his head and turned away from his brother. "You know what, I'm not going to argue with you. You're not worth my time."

"And fighting our government is?" Dante asked. He was hurt by Cisco's comment, but he also genuinely wanted to know what Cisco was truly thinking. Maybe this would send him off in a monologue in which he explained everything. And as Dante wondered what would make Cisco go down this path, he realized he wanted to spend more time with his brother and not fight him over clashing beliefs.

"It is," Cisco said. He tilted his head and briefly stared at the suddenly sentimental face his older brother was making. "What are you looking at?"

"I didn't think I'd see you again," Dante said. he took a step closer to Cisco, but not more than just that one. "Whatever happened, I always hoped that you were doing something good with your life."

"Did you?" Cisco asked and for the first time, a hint of an emotional reaction flashed over his face.

"Yes, I did," Dante said, "You just left, I was worried about you and I hoped you'd be fine. I know things weren't as good for you at home—"

"Weren't as good?" Cisco's voice was highly skeptical, and Dante nodded. Yes, Dante may have always been the favorite in the family, but the circumstances of Cisco's upbringing couldn't be as bad as he insinuated. Could it?

"…I did miss you a lot," Dante continued. "Of course I worried, I never stopped. You're still my brother."

Silence fell again. Dante waited for a while, for an answer that may or may not still come. But it didn't and Dante looked at the ground. So much for a brotherly connection, even though there never really had been one in the first place.

"And you are mine," Cisco eventually said, his gaze lingering on Dante for a little too long. Dante lifted his head, a relieved smile on his face. Cisco did not permit himself to smile as widely as his brother – in fact, he did not smile at all. The sentiment did remain the same and Dante appreciated the gesture. At least he was willing to admit they were still brothers.

But with everything that was going on and with all the revelations had come so quickly the past half an hour, Dante realized it might be better to go back home.

"Is there any chance you can let me leave?" Stumbling upon a secret was one thing, but being allowed to leave after discovering this thing, the super-secret hideout, was a completely different thing.

"I can let you go," Cisco said. He turned his head to Dante and for the first time, he could see into his brother's eyes – Cisco had removed his goggles. There was compassion in his eyes. "Nobody knows I'm here."

Nobody. Possibly not his fellow Freedom Fighters – still a terrible name – and definitely not the New Reich. If they did, they would come after Cisco.

"I promise I won't come back," Dante said. "I swear I'm not gonna tell anyone." He could not say he was not going to come back. He had found the hide-out easily. Cisco was probably going to try and empty the hangar altogether, or abandon it. The alternative (being found out) was the worse alternative.

"You know where the exit is." Cisco pointed his hand at the door Dante had walked through. Cisco wasn't going to walk him there; he was not going to move away from the comfort of the darkness or risk being spotted in this outfit.

"Thank you," Dante said and he made his way towards the door. About halfway there, he stopped in his tracks and turned to his little brother again. Dante let out a sigh.

Where did this go wrong?

"Cisco? If you need anything, I can give it to you."

"I don't need anything from you," Cisco answered. He did not speak out of animosity.

Dante nodded. "The offer still stands. You'll find me."

He glanced at Cisco one last time and then, Dante left his brother behind.

* * *

Dante returned home, a little wiser and a bit more confused than before. His fiancée was waiting for him to come back and wanted to know what was bothering him – she could read from his face something was going on in his mind.

"Hey!" She cheerfully greeted him, a wide smile on her face. she walked towards her fiancé and embraced him. His reaction was distracted to non-existent; only responding a faint "hi" back to her. Whatever had happened to him this evening, it was on his mind. They walked to the couch and sat down on it. Dante grabbed the remote and turned on the TV and though he was watching, it didn't seem he was paying attention.

"Are you okay?" his fiancée asked him, placing a comforting hand on his knee. Finally, as if he woke up from a long dream, he looked at his wife. He had heard the question but hadn't processed it yet.

"What?" he said. She shot him a concerned look and he – finally – reacted in a more normal and less affected way. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Truly?" She asked. Dante mirrored her actions and placed a hand on her knee. He looked her in the eyes and found the comfort he always found in them. The calmness and serenity he had been craving since seeing Cisco finally descended upon him. No matter what had happened today, no matter what was going to happen in the future, whether he was going to see his brother again or not – he had this. He made this moment joyful and enjoyed her unwavering loyalty and support.

"Truly. I just…" he paused for a moment. "I had a run-in with an old friend of mine." After such a long time, Dante could not call him his brother in front of his fiancée.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She then asked him. Dante nodded, satisfied.

"I did," he said and pulled her closer to him. She was lying on him and he held her close with his arm, both of them watching the TV program.

This was good. this was how things were supposed to be. And if Cisco truly wanted the life he had chosen and wanted to be a vigilante, Dante was not going to report him. They were both adults who knew what they were doing. Though Dante did not approve of Cisco's actions, he did not wish to interfere.

* * *

You may have noticed Dante is not a vigilante. His brother is, but this story is not about Vibe, but specifically about Dante. This was a conscious choice. I wanted to take a break from discussing vigilantes and all the ways people could become and act like one and shed a light on the people like Dante – the enablers.

Enablers like Dante Ramon are the reason some of these vigilantes could continue their work a little longer. They see what is going on and have the chance to report it to the government and get one more vigilante off the street. These people, however, do not tell anyone what they see. They watch and remain silent. We may never know what goes through their minds when they see vigilantes. It is always possible they see suspicious activity and just don't know what to do, ultimately not telling anyone what they've seen, they may be intentionally keeping this information to themselves to give the vigilantes a chance.

Whatever their reasons may be, silent enablers are integral to the vigilantes running around in the New Reich. Because if everyone told the New Reich where they spotted this vigilante, these law-breakers would have been caught earlier and this society as a whole would have made less progression towards a free society in the long run. As such, these enablers are just as important as the vigilantes themselves.


	15. Judaism

The world we used to live in wasn't particularly cruel if you complied to the social rules and the laws. Unfortunately, those laws and rules were especially selfish and it seemed only those with white skin, blond hair and a decent amount of money could make it in this world.

It wasn't kind to those who did not fit in, however that may have manifested itself. You could only love the right person and if you divorced, there was a high chance you were shunned until you found a new partner. Many women – because mostly women suffered from this unspoken social rule – immediately searched a man who wanted to marry them and stuck with those men. There were not many divorced parents in this world, but there was one woman who personified these struggles quite well.

Her name was Donna Smoak. She divorced her husband and had not been lucky finding a second one. When her daughter Felicity became five, she decided to give up hunting for a man and focused on raising her daughter. This, in turn, raised a lot of eyebrows from her direct environment.

Donna and Felicity went through rough times. Donna had to juggle three different jobs so Felicity could attend school. She was hardly there for her daughter, but she was glad Felicity did not blame her for not being there for her. She understood her mother was doing everything to keep them off the streets. In some cases, she even paused her homework to clean the house and prepare the food, so Donna could take a rare break. Then there was one more thing that could ruin the life they had built: Donna and Felicity are Jewish.

The best religious conviction in the New Reich was atheism and the personality cult surrounding the Führer. Religion wasn't tolerated and the laws forbade religion to be practiced, especially Judaism. These laws were leftovers from the influence Nazi Germany had on society – it was prejudiced against Jews, so much so that they were sent to the camps. But they stuck to their faith – only a small percentage of Jews, such as the Stein family, denounced their religious ways to survive. So, Donna and Felicity had to be extra careful with their way of living. Especially on religious holidays, they had to look over their shoulder as not to come across as suspicious. For the first fifteen years of Felicity's life, they managed to slip under the New Reich's radar. They kept their heads down and never did anything that would draw attention to them.

But the New Reich liked to control people at random in places where they would be off-guard. One day, Donna misspoke while muttering to herself. It just so happened she passed a New Reich secret agent and he heard her. the only good thing about this was that Donna had time to go home – they would find her eventually, there's no use running around to try to throw them off guard – and to make sure Felicity is safe.

* * *

Donna Smoak rushed home, knowing her time was limited once she was inside. Someone had been following her, she was sure of it. There would be no way she was able to shake them off on her way home. They would keep track of her through security cameras in the streets.

She put her keys in the lock and turned it. Time was of the essence. Felicity had stayed at home that day – she hadn't been feeling too well and Donna had gone into town on her own. Unless they had investigated her home, they would not know Felicity was home. She could still live through today.

When Felicity saw her mother's pale face, she knew something was off.

"What happened?" But Donna did not answer. Instead, she pointed at the closet.

"Get inside the closet." Felicity did exactly as her mother said. She had a small frame, so she fit into a small compartment at the bottom of the closet. It was cramped in space, but Felicity wriggled herself into the compartment. When she found a somewhat comfortable position, someone roughly knocked on the door. A strict voice sounded through the door. "Open up."

Felicity glanced at her mother. "What's going on?" she whispered hastily.

"Stay in the closet," Donna said. "No matter what happens, no matter what you see, you stay here and stay quiet."

"Mom?" Felicity did not take her eyes off of her mother. She did not know whether it was the last time she would ever see that face.

"Stay here." Donna remained strangely calm. "I love you." Donna planted one last kiss on her daughter's forehead and then, she closed the closet doors and locked it. There was a small cord in Felicity's compartment and, if she were to pull it, the lock would open. There was also a small groove at the bottom of the compartment, through which Donna pushed the key so that whoever would storm into the apartment would not be able to easily open it or find her daughter.

Donna had just enough time to sit down on the couch when the door broke down and ten soldiers stormed into the room. donna remained calm while the men in masks surrounded her.

"On the ground! On the ground!" The soldiers shouted through one another. Donna slowly and calmly bent over and crawled on the ground. She sat on her knees and held her hands on the ground next to her.

"Where's the girl?" The commander of the group yelled. He and another soldier stayed with her while the other eight searched the small apartment. One of them tried to open the closet but gave up easily.

"She's not here," Donna said.

The commander cocked his gun and raised his voice. "Where's the girl?"

"With a friend," Donna answered. The commander did not shoot, but he did slap her hard on the cheek. Donna only briefly yelled in pain, but then shut her mouth as not to make it worse for her daughter, silent tears streaming down her face.

"Don't lie to me!" the commander yelled.

"Hans!" the other soldier near Donna said. the commander lifted his head and stared at his subordinate. "There's no girl here."

Commander Hans looked at Donna again and he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "We'll find her. And that will be the worst day of your life."

Donna used the opportunity to spit in his face. In retaliation, he slapped her again, the sound of the impact echoing through the room.

"Take the bitch away," Commander Hans said and the soldiers obeyed. Without saying a word, Donna let herself be dragged out of her house, trying her hardest not to look or even glance at the closet. Instead, she glared with intense hatred at commander Hans, who returned the same glares. Eventually, everyone had left the apartment and Donna was arrested.

Felicity stayed in the closet. She watched the scene with tears in her eyes and a hand on her mouth. One hour, two hours passed and Felicity still did not dare to leave the safe comfort of the closet. Only after the third hour did she dare to unlock the closet door and to step outside. She only snuck around the house, grabbed some good and then returned to the closet.

Around the fifth hour, the commander returned. Felicity stayed in the closet and once again, she evaded being captured by staying in the closet.

Only on the third day did she decide to leave the house, sneaking away and believing nobody had seen her.

* * *

Felicity stayed out of the hands of the New Reich for another nine years, but she too was sent to a concentration camp. Once there, she reunited with her mother, who hadn't cracked under the pressure yet. They were separated soon afterward, but both mother and daughter stayed faithful and did not break under the regime. Donna Smoak survived the turmoil of the concentration camp and went back to living a normal life after the Fall of the New Reich, but I have no idea what happened to her daughter. I do hope she is safe, wherever she may be.


	16. In the flames

he next story concerns a miracle unlike any we have ever seen in the history of the New Reich: our former government declared a member of the Freedom Fighters a hero. They did not know of his true allegiance; they never had a chance to ask and those who were aware of this wished to share this piece of information. What he did was heroic enough to become a national hero, celebrated by all, and the Reich inadvertently gave the Freedom Fighter a member to show off to possible recruits: 'oh, by the way, Mick Rory was a Freedom Fighter'.

This is the story of how Mick Rory became a national hero.

* * *

It was a remarkably quiet night at the police station. For the first time in forever, there was nobody in the Central City cells – they were emptied so a cleaning service could clean it. There was only little staff present: two cleaners and a couple of cops spread across the building, doing all sorts of tedious tasks. These police officers were close to finishing their shift and waited for their colleagues to come and release them. None of them seemed to be very energetic anymore after a long, boring shift.

The accident that ignited the situation happened at ten in the evening. The traffic downtown was horrible and there was total gridlock; there were some works on the road that slowed it down. The police officers from the night shift were caught off guard by the traffic jam and were stuck – they were not going to arrive at work soon enough.

There was a gas leak inside the building. Nobody noticed it and if they did, they shrugged it off as normal. The building itself was in a rundown state and there were many funny smells around. the officers themselves did not mind it as much – as long as they could work and pay the bills. But it had become too much, which was why they called the cleaning service. They would have paid them out of their own pocket because the budget for this police district was extremely low.

That same night, A New Reich official came to inspect the premises. This came unannounced; this way, they could catch some people off-guard and see whether the cops were doing their jobs. When he entered the building, the young clerk behind the desk allowed him to go wherever he wanted to go and accompanied him, texting to his friends the inspection had come. None of the officers expected the night to become worse than it already was.

Then the building exploded.

Mick Rory and Leonard Snart were passing by, on their way to a small city meeting, when it happened. They stood across the street, about twenty yards to its left. They stared at the now burning building and came to the same horrible realization: there had to be people inside.

Knowing his friend, Leo immediately grabbed Mick's arm. He had already taken a step towards the building, his eyes fixated on it – but Leonard's hand temporarily held him back.

"Don't," Leo said.

"There are still people inside," Mick responded. Yet, he was not going to blindly run into the police station without his friend's consent. He still would want to convince his friend to let him go and to save the people that needed his help, even if those cops would have hunted them down on any other day.

"You could die," Leo said. That was a big possibility. They did not have their protective gear with them – it would be suspicious to walk around in it in plain sight – nor did they have their respective cold and heat guns with them. If they had, Leo would not have hesitated to douse the fire while Mick would go inside to help.

But that was not an option. Nobody but the firefighters could stop the fire, and Leo and Mick could only watch. Leo wanted to see what happened, but Mick could not stand not helping when he so easily could.

"I have to help," he insisted, looking at Leo. They engaged in a staring competition – one of them would have to cave for the wishes of the other. It did not take long for Leo to give in. He broke eye contact and sighed.

"Good luck, friend." Mick solemnly nodded once and ran into the building. Some policemen were already standing in front of the building – the three had just arrived and tried to create a perimeter around the police station so that nobody would be coming too close to the site. Mick managed to slip their attention, to slip past them and to run inside the burning building.

Leo stayed outside of the perimeter with the three police officer, who had already called the firefighters and who were trying to figure out how many people could be inside. One of them attempted to enter himself, but he returned soon after, not willing to go deep inside the burning building. He cited the heat and the smoke as some of the reasons.

Minutes passed. Leo kept looking at the door, hoping to see his best friend survive. When he thought this, Mick ran out of the building with the first victim. The three officers were surprised to see Mick, but they helped out their colleague in uniform who was in shock while Mick ran back into the building.

This process repeated itself four more times. a cleaning lady, two cops and the New Reich official were saved from the police station. The firefighters had also arrived in the meantime, but it had not stopped him. the official was the last person Mick had dragged out of the building. Due to exposure, he was coughing relentlessly and almost dropped the unconscious official on the ground. One of the three unharmed officers tried to stop him from re-entering the building, but Mick pushed him out of the way and returned to save the two remaining cops.

Leo was watching still and knew this was his time to act. He stepped forward, but another one of the three cops stopped him from entering the perimeter. Knowing he had no authority in the situation, Leo complied and stood back, watching the entrance to the station like a hawk. Minutes passed, but nothing happened.

It did not take long before Leo realized that Mick wasn't coming back from this.

* * *

The news spread like wildfire. There had been an explosion at the local police bureau. Two police officers had died in the initial explosions, but the others and a New Reich official made it out of the fire alive (the cleaning lady was apparently too unimportant to mention). This would have never been possible without the help of a courageous citizen who perished in the flames, looking for the two officers who were already dead in the back of the station.

Leo had left the premises yet when the press interviewed him. He asked to be listed as an anonymous source, and the reporters agreed. They asked him the standard questions until Leo dropped Mick's name. the journalists became more intrigued and asked deeper questions. Leo happily obliged.

Leo did not mention anything that could incriminate Mick. His identity as a Freedom Fighter was something only the Freedom Fighters themselves would know. other than that, Leo shared Mick's full name with the press and stressed that he was a normal person who was always quick to help those in need.

People mourned the deceased officers and the hero. when the firefighters finally doused the fire, they could retrieve the bodies. The three received a hero's funeral and were buried in a military graveyard. Mick had no family to attend the funeral, but Leo was invited and attended. It was a shock to see the Führer greet the coffins.

Führer Oliver Queen had greeted the body of a Freedom Fighter – an anecdote the Freedom Fighters would tell the story to new recruits to draw them in. Mick Rory, the public hero, became a Freedom Fighter asset. Everyone knew who he was and if the recruits learned he was a Freedom fighter, there was a higher chance they would join.

Leo still misses his best friend. However, he is comforted by the knowledge that Mick's spirit was still by his side and watched everything Leo did with an approving nod. I do not believe in spirits or ghosts, but if Leonard Snart is comforted by this thought, I am not going to disrespect it. 


	17. Journalism

Iris West was a bright young woman who knew what she wanted and pursued it until she got it. She was strong, courageous and did not back down when others would have. That is why Barry Allen would describe her as bordering reckless, among many other negative traits. But he spoke only to discredit her, and he did not know her properly.

I must admit that I do not know her properly as well; I never had the chance to meet her in person. I would like to thank an anonymous source for providing all the information I needed. He was more than willing to provide more details and anecdotes than I needed or could possibly mention in this chapter. It pains me not to be able to include every detail, but I must be as concise as I can. No amount of anecdotes will counter the fake news spread about her. this will be her legacy; the press and the New Reichsmen, especially Barry Allen, already attempted to discredit her and have succeeded. The people have a not-very-well-informed opinion on her; my source and I seek to set this right, though we know it will take long before the general perception on her is changed. She was much more than what the media said about her and a much better person than I will ever be.

This is Iris West's story, as it truly was.

* * *

Iris West was born into a lower middle-class family. Her father and her mother had good jobs, all things considered, and so she managed to go to a good school which, due to financing problems, had to take some children that did not have a white skin color. The classrooms were still segregated as much as possible, but at least Iris received her primary school education from a white teacher who did not seem as racist as the others were, but who still was kinda racist.

Iris knew Barry Allen. she did not go to him every single day to talk to him or wanted desperately to become his friend, as Mr. Allen described it. She did know him, from school and from somewhere else – her father worked the night Barry's father killed his mother. If it hadn't been for segregation and discrimination, Barry may have become her brother. She only sometimes wondered what if would have been like, having Barry as her brother.

She did have a biological younger brother named Wally. He attended a different primary school, but they went to the same high school. They were best friends and loved each other to death. And they also loved their parents, even if they weren't around so much to make ends meet. The year prior to their freshman year, their mother left for National City to get a better education – it held the only education center that was willing to teach black adults. She left, promising to return soon, but she never came back. Officially, she was still missing, but it was more likely she was murdered in a hate crime. All Iris had was her brother – her father drowned himself in work under the guise of earning extra money to provide for his children.

At age sixteen, Iris had to get a job. Wally soon had to leave school as well. The money their father made was not enough to make ends meet the way he wanted to. He never had to ask his children to get a job – they decided to look for one out of free will. Unlike Iris, Wally made a lot of money. He never shared any specifics of the kind of job he was doing, but illegal street racing earned him a lot more than a regular job would.

Iris chased stories for a living. A local newspaper took a chance on her and they would never regret their decision. She was a truly brilliant reporter, unafraid to go places and ask the bolder questions. It has gotten her into trouble more than once, but it did not mean she slowed down. she attributed that strong will and stubbornness to her heritage. Just because someone's skin was a couple of shades darker, didn't mean they were a lesser person. 'Blacks' were just as capable of doing the things the whites have been doing for a long time. If it were up to her, it was about time minorities got a chance to shine instead of being pushed into obscurity.

Irish quickly moved up the ladder within the company's hierarchy and then moved on to a more renowned newspaper run by racial minorities. It was well-read in Central City, both by the less-racist white and non-white community. This skyrocketed Iris' reputation as a great reporter. On top of that, she ran a blog that was visited by 10,000 people per week. She was popular because she was not afraid to let the people know her strong political and socio-economical views. She expressed these mainly on her blog because her strong views may cause readers to boycott the newspaper and she did not want to have that on her conscience. She'd rather not damage the paper's reputation in any way.

In short, Iris had it made, for as far as that was possible for someone like her. Wally and her father were so proud of her, and Iris knew her mother would be proud as well. She had a steady income, could continue to live in her parental house and things were going well. But with the way she had been acting and working, it was only inevitable there was going to be a day when everything collapsed and when she would take it a step too far, writing a blog post that expressed too strong an opinion mixed with the facts. And she did.

One day, the Führer died. This was not completely unexpected since he had been old and sick for at least a couple of months. The strange thing was that they found him at home, two red arrows in his chest. Not even two days later, Malcolm Merlyn was found dead in a similar fashion, two red arrows in his chest area as well. Oliver Queen pushed forward the theory that Roy Harper, his half-sister's bodyguard/companion, had killed both.

Thea Merlyn-Queen did not believe Roy was the culprit. Neither did Iris. Nobody else thought Roy was innocent; everyone sided with the Führer-to-be. Why couldn't Roy have done it? He had grown up poor and only by chance ended up n the entourage of an influential family – a family he wanted to see dead, old friends told the press. They concluded the murderer could be nobody but Roy.

Iris doubted the story. Just because the accusation came from Oliver Queen, it did not mean it was the truth. She decided she was going to find out what exactly happened, one way or the other.

She spoke to some guards on duty those nights. They initially told her they had seen nothing. When she explained why she asked them, they scoffed and laughed and sometimes even told her the truth "because nobody's going to believe a black bitch". They did not know 'that black bitch' had a large following and what she had to say may change the way people looked at Oliver Queen.

It was Oliver who had visited the Führer. He had made a suggestion Oliver did not agree with. He'd gone soft, Mr. Queen believed, because a strong Führer would not stop attempts to crush the rebels' spirits in South America and Australia. With two red arrows, taken from Roy for this exact purpose, he killed the Führer and threatened to kill the suspicious guards if they told anyone.

The next day, Mr. Queen met with his sister's father. Malcolm Merlyn was perfect for the Führer job and Oliver was afraid the people would turn to him to lead. Mr. Merlyn may not have defended himself – and if he had, he only put minimal effort into it.

Iris presented her account of the facts, citing many of the guards anonymously and the facts as she believed they happened. She published the story on her blog, in the hopes of discrediting him and decreasing his chances of becoming the Führer.

Needless to say, Mr. Queen was not happy some black reporter discovered what happened. Action was taken immediately and effectively.

* * *

Blitzkrieg kidnapped her from her house one night and brought her to Mr. Queen's mansion. The press was present, on invitation of Mr. Queen himself. The Führer staged some sort of 'court case' in which Iris was the suspect. She was forced to 'take the stand' so Mr. Queen could discredit Iris' reputation and to make the second part of the press conference more acceptable.

Oliver Queen had already been declared the Führer before Iris published the article. As the legal ruler, he could do whatever he wanted without feeling any repercussions for his actions. After Iris West was completely ridiculed and discredited, Führer Queen killed her. He shut up a critical voice and so, through the power of media and propaganda, silenced other people who would have been thinking of destroying the Führer's reputation.

* * *

I have spoken to some journalists who aren't white. They all confirmed they knew of Iris West and told me they were saddened by her death. Alongside the publication of this book, they have promised to release some of their unpublished articles. They all have had the same theory Iris had, but they were too afraid to tell the people the truth about the deaths of the previous Führer and Malcolm Merlyn. Since Führer Queen has died, there is significantly less chance of consequences for these good men and women. Only time can tell whether they did publish their articles or whether I had to break this news.

Either way, Iris West is a good person. She may not have been a meta-human or a vigilante, but she was courageous and a decided journalist who wanted to show us the real face of politics in this country. Let her death not be the warning Mr. Queen wanted it to be, but an inspiration to not only reporters and journalists, but to anyone who wants to make a stand against the regime, against discrimination and against the systematic lies and propaganda of the previous government.


	18. Blitzkrieg

Last chapter, we discussed Iris West's true life story. My Earth-X audience may not make the connection, but since we have discussed her, we must also mention Barry Allen. On other Earths, so I've heard, Iris West and Barry Allen always seem to be in a relationship of sorts. This earth must be the only earth where they did not get to know one another at all.

Because of the information presented to me, I believe that if Barry had been in contact with Iris, he may not have become the New-Reichsman Blitzkrieg we know today. He may even have become an ally of the Freedom Fighters, but I do not want to make too wild claims or use them to excuse his behavior. He is still a bad person who did horrible things.

However, I do admit Barry Allen could have been a better person– 'better' is defined in this context as: not as evil as he is today. The main reason behind his behavior and opinions all stem from his childhood.

* * *

Barry Allen started his life in a poor neighborhood and, due to insufficient funding, he was forced to go to a school where whites and minorities shared a playground. They did not share the classrooms – those were still highly segregated. Only one white line on the playground separated the white children, who received the most space, from the other ones. Iris West also attended this elementary school. She was just as bright and intelligent as Barry was, but the teachers only ever acknowledged Barry's intelligence, because how could a black girl be smart?

Barry's life changed completely when a yellow streak invaded his home one night. His mother was crying in the kitchen while his father tried to reach her, but the yellow streak whirled around her like a tornado, making it impossible to reach her. Barry only witnessed a couple of seconds of this before the yellow streak came right at him and knocked him out.

When Barry woke up, the police had just arrived. Some police officer was with him while another office cuffed his father. His mother lay dead on the ground, a kitchen knife next to his mother.

Young Barry had shaken his head. The yellow streak must have killed his mother. But there was no evidence, no security footage pointing towards a yellow streak. The murder weapon was covered with his father's fingerprints. Only a black cop, Iris West's father, managed to calm Barry down and took him out of the house and away from the crime scene. He would have adopted Barry himself, but nobody wanted to see a white child growing up in a black family. That just was not acceptable.

Since he had no other family, Barry ended up in the Central City orphanage and later, the Star City orphanage. It seemed his fate was sealed; nobody ever adopted a child unless they were financially stable enough to adopt. Most of the children in orphanages and foster care ended up on the streets when they aged out of the system. That was the path many were forced to take, and Barry prepared for it. He still performed well in school, just in case someone in the future would see his degree and offer him a job. At least that may give him a proper future.

Barry Allen, at age eleven, spent five months in the orphanage when Dr. David Palmer came along and adopted the kid.

Barry was welcomed with open arms into his new family. Dr. David Palmer often referred to him as the 'last Palmer brother' when talking to the media. He had a son of his own, Raymond, and the only Palmer brother who effectively had that last name. The other boys David had adopted had kept their respective surnames, so they would never forget where they came from. None of them did mind; it would mean they could pursue a career later in life without people constantly giving them chances based on their last name instead of their actual merits. Besides Barry Allen, David had adopted two other boys: Nathaniel Heywood was only a baby when he was adopted, while Rory Regan had joined the family only months prior. The boys were about the same age, and the family was complete.

Barry loved his new brothers and they loved him. he attended the same school they did, namely the Star City Academy. Barry spent most of his time with Ray, who also did not have any powers and had almost all the same classes as Barry. The two were both enrolled in the non-militaristic study program, meaning neither of them was taught to fight, but they did learn battle strategies, should they still want to join the army.

One day, that changed. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happened on a day such as that one. That day was a nice summer day. After school, Rory and Barry wanted to decide once and for all who was faster. As they 'raced' down the street, Barry sped up to at least fifty miles per hour, possibly higher. Just like that, he was on the other side of the city.

Dr. Palmer discovered Barry's identity as a meta-human. This discovery chronologically was made before the particle accelerator was even built, and Barry was far out of the impacted area. Barry Allen, on Earth-X, is a naturally born meta-human whose powers only manifested around his thirteenth birthday.

Barry immediately transferred classes. He joined his contemporaries' meta-human classes. Some believed he would be left behind because he wasn't enrolled in those classes from the beginning. However, over the course of four years, Barry learned how to run properly and taught himself many tricks. During his training, he decided to pick up German and take a college level course on forensic sciences – he spoke fluent German after only a couple of months and completed the forensic sciences course before graduation. None of this would have been possible without his speed.

He graduated along with Oliver Queen, Kara Danvers, the Lance sisters, and many others. During the ceremony, the Academy revealed his new codename: Blitzkrieg. Barry was proud of that name.

Even after graduation, Barry continued to learn new things and in between his duties as a New Reichsman, he traveled around. He visited Germany every once in a while, having fallen in love with the country. He eventually acted as the official spokesperson for the New Reich to Germany and he established a good friendship with the German Führer. On duty, he helped the New Reichsmen fight the Freedom Fighters and maintained his friendship with Mr. Queen and Ms. Danvers, as well as visiting Rory and Ray every few weeks.

In other words, Barry enjoyed the life given to him because one rich guy took a chance on him and decided to adopt him.

* * *

All was going well with Barry and the New Reich until a new speedster came to Earth-X. The man called himself Eobard Thawne and, for reasons unexplained, he looked identical to the late Harrison Wells. When he came speeding into the room, he wore a suit similar to Barry's, except it was mostly yellow with a reverse yellow lightning bolt on the chest piece. And while he ran, a yellow streak trailed behind him.

The exact same yellow streak Barry saw the night his mother died.

Eobard offered them another world to rule. He told them all about Earth-1 (it offended the Führer their Earth wasn't Earth-1) and how he knew on which day Supergirl, who had a healthy heart, would be present on that Earth. It turned out that earth did not have a Kara Danvers of their own, so they relied upon Earth-38 Kara Danvers. How Thawne knew what Overgirl and the Dark Arrow needed remains unknown. All that mattered, was that he provided solutions to questions they had been asking themselves lately. Overgirl and the Dark Arrow welcomed the Reverse Flash among their ranks.

Blitzkrieg, on the other hand, disagreed and ran away to Germany. He only returned to the New Reich when the Führer called him in to talk about his childish behavior. Barry knew he could not refuse the Führer's orders, and so he returned.

His office was dark and the Führer sat behind his desk. Blitzkrieg glanced around but did not see Overgirl anywhere. This put Barry at ease, knowing the literal powerhouse of the New Reich was not there to 'knock common sense' into him.

While it can be said Barry was one of the most powerful metas to run around on Earth-X and that he had nobody to fear, he was only ever afraid of Overgirl.

"What was that all about?" The Führer asked. Barry had run away without even saying a word since the other speedster had arrived.

"That man killed my mother." Barry was convinced this Eobard Thawne had murdered her. Because of him, his father did not survive the prison camps. He may have found happiness with the Palmer family, but he always blamed the yellow streak for stealing his parents. He had the distinct opinion that Thawne was targeting him specifically for some reason.

"As far as the records go, that was your father," Oliver said. Again Barry disagreed with the Führer, but he knew shouting profanities in his face was not the best way to discuss the problem.

"There was a yellow streak in the house," Barry said. "Nobody believed me when I said it killed my mother. I could see it in his eyes, he did not kill her. Someone else did." Thawne did.

"And you believe Eobard was that someone else?" Oliver said. Barry nodded furiously.

"I don't believe it. I know it was him. Have you seen him run? It has to be him."

Oliver did not immediately respond, giving Barry some space to calm down and carefully choose his next words. Barry may be a speedster, but Oliver may still knock him out if he wanted to. Barry would pull his punches, Oliver would not.

"I don't want to turn my back to you," Barry said. "And I want to help – I really want to continue working with you. But I am not working with him. As long as you keep him around, you can find me in Bavaria."

"And when he's gone?" Mr. Queen asked.

"I will promptly return."

The Dark Arrow stood up from the chair and approached Barry. He extended his hand to the speedster when he stood in front of him. Barry shook it.

"I hope to see you soon, Barry."

"Likewise, Mr. Queen," Barry responded and he let go of the hand. "Good luck conquering the other earth."

And so, Blitzkrieg sped out of the building and raced to his vacation home in Bavaria. Dark Arrow sent him an update every week or so, to keep Barry up to date with the recent developments. Each time, Barry hoped to receive the news the Reverse Flash was gone. Until that message came, he stayed in Bavaria. He did not necessarily miss the New Reich all that much – he enjoyed living in the original fatherland. To pass his time, he silenced rebellious Germans and did some odd jobs for the German Führer.

The last update told the speedster the troops were leaving for Earth-1 in thirty minutes. Barry was still welcome to join them if he so wished. Barry did not send a response or ran home. The Führer, his General, and the Reserve left to conquer the other world. He did wish them the best of luck.

But those three never returned home. The Freedom Fighters grew bolder and bolder. Two different people fought to receive the title of "Führer", both believing they would be the leader their world needed. One of the candidates, Ray Palmer, even asked Barry to return so he could make a good impression.

Barry refused. While he stayed in Bavaria, he made the decision to leave the New Reich behind him. He would only return every now and then, to fight his arch-nemesis the Flash and to try and find out who was hiding behind that mask. As of the writing of this book, he has not yet found out; the Flash was secretive and never let anything slip. Other than that, the New Reich was none of his business anymore. Barry Allen had been naturalized into a German citizen who did what he could do best – he ran.

* * *

There is a good reason why the people on this continent still feared Blitzkrieg. He was a Palmer brother; he became best friends with the Führer and his wife; he was one of the most overpowered metas still running around. No matter what was going on, no matter the comfort and safety you feel, Blitzkrieg could still swoop in and kill you in an instant. He is a dangerous adversary who willingly gave up opposing the Freedom Fighters and who gave up on the New Reich altogether. Just like that, he could reverse his decision and murder every rebel standing in his way.

Let's be glad Barry Allen is not remotely interested in political intrigues. We would be in the same place if he had decided he would be the best Führer. If that were to happen, nothing would have been able to stop him.

My publisher and I have made the calculated decision to publish this book in the hopes that Barry Allen will not read it. If he did, you will know.


	19. General

I definitely can say there is one man in our generation that made this brave new world possible. Without his continuous efforts, there may have been a rebellion and everything would have still happened, but the Freedom Fighters may not have succeeded. General Winn Schott was a key player in their victory. It is true that the heroes from Earth-1 decisively killed the Führer and his wife, but the actions of the Freedom Fighters made the difference on this Earth and changed things for the better.

Still, this man's life story is more complicated than you may believe. You may even remember that last name from somewhere. We will dig deeper into his past and expose his not-so-humble history – of course with the utmost respect for the person he has become.

I have been given explicit permission to share his turbulent past with you. Should he, at any point wish to retract his permission after this book is published, you will be one of the lucky owners of an edition that still holds his story.

* * *

The General's full name is Winslow Schott, Jr. He was born as the son of Winslow Schott, Sr., a New Reich corporal and technical advisor to the Führer. His father was a loyal soldier and an even more brilliant engineer. On top of that, he was a great father to his only son. The young Winn was often allowed to come to work with him because of his father's status. He watched for hours as his father worked tirelessly. Winn worshipped his father and always claimed he wanted to be exactly like him.

Winn worked hard to make true to those claims. He begged to be sent to the same schools and to follow the same classes; a training a regime with a bit of science on the side, just in case being a soldier was somehow not an option anymore down the line. Winn may not have been the best little soldier of the class, but he excelled in science; he even was allowed to follow the most advanced classes that were available.

His life only changed when he turned twelve. His mother went missing in Alaska. The New Reich never advised to go there alone – rebels had made a base in Alaska – but she wanted to see the situation and whether her husband's machines made the difference. She never returned.

The New Reich organized a search party. The Führer used this opportunity to kill many Alaskan rebels under the guise of 'prisoners who took their own lives after refusing to cooperate'. Obviously, this is not what truly happened – the Alaskan rebels were all brutally murdered when they tried to escape from the massacre the Führer had ordered.

Winn was heart-broken. Fortunately, he still had his father. Mr. Schott decided to work part-time to spend more time with his son. He also hired a maid to work at home, so Winn would not be alone when his father had to work long hours. During the transition from working fulltime to working part-time, Mr. Schott's responsibilities were largely taken over by his colleague, Dr. David Palmer.

The last year Winn spent with his father was the best. He helped his son with his school work and Winn helped his father as his assistant in the lab. Mr. Schott often acted a bit strange, and Winn would describe it as his father keeping a big and terrible secret from him. This is why Winn believed his father spent so much time with him – if he really knew something terrible, every day could be their last.

One day, it indeed was the last. Fourteen-year-old Winn was at home with the maid and waited for his father to come home. When he did not return before Winn's bedtime, he knew something was wrong. They found Mr. Schott Sr. dead in his lab. Heart attack, an autopsy would later confirm. Winn never believed the coroners, but he never voiced his disagreement. He knew well enough not to openly go against anyone associated with the New Reich, even the coroners.

Winslow Schott Sr. was buried next to his wife's grave in Star City. Winn was present at the funeral with the maid. He was the last person who stood at his grave when everyone else had already left.

Winn had received a letter from his late father. Standing at his grave, Winn remembered the occasion. His father had given him a piece of paper, double folded, and instructed his son not to open it until he had passed away. Winn believed he would not have to read it, but it turned out he had to read the message sooner than expected.

The true content of the message is unknown. If it still existed, I would have reconstructed it here. It instructed little Winn to burn the letter and he obeyed. Winn did remember what the letter had told him.

Mr. Schott Sr. really helped the New Reich along with Dr. David Palmer. Many of his inventions had been adapted by Dr. Palmer and later used by the New Reich to track criminals and punish the people in the camps. Their original purposes lay far from what they were eventually used for, which Mr. Schott Sr. didn't like. Winn was not to show any resentment since that would most likely kill him. Mr. Schott Sr. wished his son the best of luck and hoped he would not make the same mistakes.

Fortunately, despite his schooling, Winn had become an independent thinker whose opinions – until the death of his father – aligned somewhat with what the New Reich wanted him to believe. Through the letter, he learned what the New Reich was capable of and knew he was not going to help them.

For one year, Winn went through the motions of his life. He went to school and received excellent grades. He continued his father's legacy and worked on many solo projects, but refused to give his designs to the New Reich. He had convinced the maid, now his legal guardian, that he was allowed to keep them until his eighteenth birthday. In the meantime, he was also under near-constant surveillance. The brilliant Winslow Schott Sr. was dead, but his son was just as brilliant and young, so still malleable. They tried to make him sign his life and projects away to the New Reich. He promised to do so when he was a legal adult.

Winn ran away from home at age fifteen.

* * *

For a long time, Winn managed to stay under the radar. The New Reich figured he would be so distraught by the reality of trying to live on the street, they would easily find the kid.

But they did not easily find him. their assumption had been true – Winn could not survive on the street – but they didn't think a third party would be interested in this kid. Walking around on the street, trying to find some food, Winn was suddenly whisked away by men in masks who pulled a dark bag over his head.

When they removed the bag, Winn did not recognize his surroundings. It turned out the Freedom Fighters had taken him off the streets. He first assumed they had kidnapped him because of his name and his father's status. He feared they were going to do something horrible to him or possibly ask for ransom money.

That did not happen. Their general, one Peterson, explained they had saved him from the New Reich. His father had been in contact with them during the last few months of his life, directly after he figured out his machines were hurting people. Winn had apologized extensively on his father's behalf. He learned that Mr. Schott Sr. had detested the rebels and everything they stood for, but changed his ways when he realized they – just like himself – wanted a better world to live in. The Freedom Fighters did not manage to open Mr. Schott Sr.'s eyes to the full extension of the truth; he died before he learned how far the New Reich was willing to go.

Winn had decided to stay with them and help the people who had been wronged by society before. in the meantime, the media declared him dead and told the people the Freedom Fighters had murdered him. They buried an empty coffin in front of the cameras. It only helped Winn in the long run – when everyone assumed you were dead, they were less likely to recognize you later in life and to believe it indeed was you.

Winn grew up with the Freedom Fighters around him. He did not continue his studies in high school but focused more on his military expertise. Living with the rebels twenty-four-seven, he had only the best teachers around him and he soaked in all the knowledge he needed. After he turned seventeen, he went on missions with the rebels. By age nineteen, he started training some people of all ages who needed to be taught how to use a gun or other weapons to protect himself.

The next few years, Winn became less and less 'the son of' and more and more his own person. He quickly climbed the Freedom Fighter ranks and when Peterson passed away, it was decided Winn, as well as another promising recruit, would take the lead. The other recruit was shipped off to a prison camp after she'd been caught doing illegal activities; Winn Schott Jr. was left to be the one leader of the Freedom Fighters, taking the title of 'general'.

* * *

When the Führer and the New Reich General died on Earth-One, a power vacuum was created. The Freedom Fighters seized control of the streets and informally assumed power. Even with two contenders for the Führer title, the Freedom Fighters remained patient and strong, as they had been for so long. After the murder of one of these contenders, Winn took his chance and proclaimed himself the temporary ruler of the country. The Freedom Fighters became his army and the loyalist soldiers, who already had low morale, either were killed or surrendered.

Then Winn focused all of his attention to the New Reichsmen who were still out there. Winn himself tracked down and imprisoned every last New Reichsman who had not yet died. The Siren was the last of the New Reichsman; only a few, like Blitzkrieg, remained out of their hands. As far as Winn was concerned, they knew they had won the battle and the majority of the people supported him.

The war was far from over. Germany may not be happy with the loss of their independent state at the other side of the ocean and loyalists among the people would definitely rise up in the place of the many Freedom Fighters and vigilantes previously mentioned. In any case, there was some peace in the New Reich, and Winn had taken the opportunity to relinquish his title and pass it on to someone else.

* * *

There is a good reason why the General did not become the official leader of America. First and foremost, it was never his ambition to rule. He merely wished for a better world so the rebellions and civil wars would end, but he never wanted to rule over people. Secondly, he only knew how to lead in times of war and unrest. While his expertise may still be needed, the nation also needed someone who could rule in times of peace and quiet. General Winn Schott simply doesn't know how to do that. that is the reason why he stepped down when he was certain nobody was going to attack their nation in the short term.

To this day, he still works closely with the current president. There will still be people who disagree with the new way the country was being ruled and who would like to go back to the way things were. The General has promised to keep helping out until he is no longer needed.


	20. Family

There are two more people we need to discuss; two dark-skinned men who take to the streets and try to protect the people in their own way. I would like to mention them in the same chapter not only because they are directly related to Iris West, but because they are heroes in their own right. As a cop or a speedster, Joe and Wally West have each done much to keep the people of Central City safe and, in later life, campaigned for more respect and inclusivity for racial minorities. This is the story of how they got to the present.

* * *

Joe West was a good man. However, given the circumstances of his childhood and his skin color, he was forced to behave like someone he was not. It did not prevent him from growing as a kind young man who respected everyone and who believed the people who pushed him down and oppressed minorities were sad creatures deserving of pity, because their minds were too small to understand they were all human, regardless of skin color.

Joe also always had a strong sense of justice. He always had been a man of the law and the law needed to be followed – unless the laws were bigoted or prejudiced. None of the laws specified that discrimination should be punished, but discrimination wasn't encouraged either. Still, he used this and many other arguments to make sure the person insulting or assaulting him or a black friend would step down or, if possible, would be punished as if he had assaulted a white person. He used argument such as libel, stalking, defamation and threats of violence to the local police station. Most of the charges were dropped, but some were followed up and of those, only a handful got prosecuted. It was because of this Joe wanted to become a police officer.

Joe joined the police academy no problem. It was fighting against discrimination from everyone there, both recruits and trainers, that was the hard part. Many believed he would drop out before he finished his first year and tried to make sure he would. But Joe never let them take him down and persisted, despite the constant bullying. He became one of the first minority recruits who did not quit after the first few months. He even graduated from the police academy – after a while, they had realized a black cop would only benefit them. They realized they could point to him when some random activist called them out for displaying clear racism at the academy.

Joe took a job downtown with some of the other graduates. Many of those pursued a higher job, not wanting to stay – not even for a meager paycheck – and so those who had stopped bullying him were replaced with people who weren't afraid to pick up their work. He reported the bullies to his superior, though it was more a symbolic declaration than a step to take action. His superior often sided with Joe, though he could take no action against them. with the police captain on his side, Joe managed to survive in his profession longer than the average person of minority.

However, there was a part of his job he did not enjoy, but which was vital and necessary if he wanted to keep it. There were certain suspects he was not allowed to pursue: the big bosses, anyone with money or influence. If you had even the idea of arresting those people, they were going to make sure you ended behind bars instead. They have also been known to bribe the police force and provide much-needed funding – just enough so they could afford the newest weapons and tools.

In other words, to survive in his profession, Joe had to become corrupt. He wasn't happy about it, but he needed to do it. There was a certain stigma surrounding the cops; they were feared by Joe's community, which saw his appointment as a victory and a betrayal. Joe broke the stereotype that no person of minority could be a good police officer. Joe lost a lot of friends – he often had to take the side of the police over his own friends'. They did not want to be associated with the cops, but promised they would welcome him back if he was fired or when he retired, whichever happened first.

Joe tried hard not to lose his job. He needed it. If he was fired, any other job he would get afterward would not pay him as much as his meager police wage. Without the money or the job, he would've ended up on the streets ten times over.

With not many people around him who supported him, Joe swallowed his words and kept his grudges under wrap. He continued with the thought that the people he could not lock up would get what they deserved in due time. Lady Justice would find a way. As for his former friends, they might come around one day and might ask him for forgiveness. He would forgive, but he was not going to pretend that they had not avoided him while he was on the side of the law. There were many other people in the world, such as his son or the few friends he made on the job. They wouldn't let him down.

At the time, he was going to survive this world. He'd rather be with than without his dignity, but that's not how the game is played.

* * *

Wally West loved to race. Not only was it a way for him to gain that extra bit of money, but he also loved the thrill of being in a car that was driving at full speed. It was not the most legal way to earn some more money, but he figured that if his father Joe had to be a corrupt cop to earn his wage, Wally could at least keep driving until he found a steady job.

There aren't many steady jobs on the market for dark-skinned youths like himself. the best job offer he'd found was as a dishwasher in the back of a nearby restaurant, and even then the working conditions weren't the best either. The staff had appeared racist – because of course they were – and he had had the feeling they would definitely target him for having a different skin color and for being 'too dumb to do anything but to wash the dishes'.

The racers did not discriminate. It did not matter what the color of your skin was, but how fast your car was. there were no whites in sight because they would shut this down if they knew about it. This greatly affected everyone's morale and their frustration with the current system. But the races were good – it was a beautiful way of inclusion. I dare say a progressive white with the approval of one of the drivers and someone else to vouch for him, would be welcome on the track, even if they would not be immediately trusted.

Wally was racing when the particle accelerator exploded. The blast impact effectively stopped the race. Multiple drivers were hurt, including Wally, who was holding the wheel tightly and was going near 170 mph. his car was the only one that crashed and afterward exploded.

A Latina driver in the race saved him from the burning wreck before it exploded and brought him to a hospital. Since many had gotten hurt in the blast wave of the accelerator explosion, the hospitals were filling up. fortunately, doctors and nurses rarely turned away a dark-skinned patient. Only the pompous elite doctors did this; almost all other medical staff gladly helped anyone who needed their help.

Wally was left behind in the Central City Center Hospital, where Joe visited him as often as he could. His son had been racing and he was currently in a coma, they told him. They had no idea when Wally would wake up.  _If_  he would wake up. The thought of losing another child was unbearable.

Six months later, Wally did wake up. He felt fine, though a bit hungry. Nothing to worry about. He returned home and decided to look for a proper job. The hospital bills were expensive and resting at home was not an option when so much money needed to be paid. Wally worked a couple of odd jobs, though he never could keep them. the wages were enough to keep him and his father under a roof just a little longer.

One day, however, Wally's life changed forever. He heard some people were changed by the particle accelerator explosion's blast, physically or mentally. Some guy could stretch his limbs and a journalist could turn into pure electricity or something. Those two were part of those with changes that had been made public. Dozens upon dozens of new metahumans had been created, people with powers who were now thrown into the deep end, often without guidance about how they could use their powers. A positive development was that they could choose to turn away from the government's help; a negative development was that Wally's powers were… desirable.

Like Blitzkrieg, Wally was gifted with the ability to run fast. Some people might have discarded it, but there were many more applications to speed than the New Reich could have ever predicted. They already knew how powerful Barry Allen has become and could still become. You can imagine the effort the New Reich makes to recruit a second speedster into their ranks.

There was one detail that made his loyalty impossible: the New Reich had killed his sister. He wasn't going to allow them to get their hands on him. That evening, he bade a tearful goodbye to his father and he ran. Wally did not worry about his father; on his own, he made enough to afford the roof above his head and enough food to get by. Wally only relieved him from a financial burden – removing him from a fight that might break out in his father's house.

While Wally was looking for a place to stay, he accidentally stumbled upon the Freedom Fighters, who recognized his powers and hatred for the New Reich and they took him in. Under the guidance of Ray Terrill, he learned how to control his powers and quickly learned of new abilities, such as throwing lighting and phasing through walls. Only when they gave him a suit – that would negate all friction generated by his while he ran – did he consider himself a Freedom Fighter.

Known to the public as the Flash, he often went toe to toe with Blitzkrieg. He was not as powerful, but he was nimbler and though he often lost the fight, Blitzkrieg never managed to capture the young speedster. Wally never gave up hope and kept confronting Blitzkrieg whenever he could, often eliciting it himself to try and beat the man that dragged Irish to her death.

This cat and mouse game lasted forever and would never really end, for neither of them would claim defeat.

* * *

Joe knew the path he had chosen for himself would end in dishonesty and actions he would otherwise not condone. Wally knew his powers were a responsibility he had to bear, being the only one who came close to being powerful enough to fight Blitzkrieg and potentially win.

After the Fall of the New Reich, Joe got a bit more respect and finally found the courage to prosecute and arrest the people that had seemed untouchable when he first met them. Because of Wally and his ties to the Freedom Fighters, he was able to arrest them and never felt repercussions of those people who believed their actions would go unpunished.

While Joe was finding peace, Wally was anxious. Blitzkrieg had left the continent and now resided in Germany, without anyone knowing whether he would be returning to the New Reich. He could not sit still, wondering when Blitzkrieg would return and chasing every lead he could find, even if it always leads to nothing.

Joe and Wally West survived despite the odds. They have told me they continue to live for Iris and for everyone who had been wronged by the New Reich. They consider their very survival as a victory in itself. And it should be regarded as such.


End file.
